Rebirth
by Orionali
Summary: Zobek is dead, Lucifer has been vanquished, Vampire Killer recovered, Wygol saved. What awaits the Prince of Darkness and his Heir now? A Reverie, a Resurrection, a Revelation, a Rebirth.
1. Beyond the End

**Hello and welcome to my fan-extended ending for _Castlevania: Lords of Shadow 2._ One thing you should know before r&r: I am not a native English speaker. Hence there could be grammar mistakes hidden in the story. Even if I spent four hours proofreading this chapter, they could still be there. Apart from that, hope you enjoy reading my ending to this spectacular game! **

**Castlevania (c) Konami, MercurySteam**

* * *

Uncertainty gnawed at her soul like a hungry parasite.

Slim fingers tracing unknown symbols in the yearlong layers of dust, she picked up a bronze candlestick with her other hand. Seconds later, a weak light began its dance on the sleek surfaces of many goblets, plates and ancient weaponry stored in equally-old cabinets and cupboards. Despite a faint draft whistling through the cracks, it could not stir up the decades worth of grime and dirt which had taken hold of this part of the church. The flame barely illuminated the small chamber, but it was enough for now.

Marie Belmont or – how she was known amongst Heaven's Chosen – the Keeper of the Dragon, made her way to the door on the opposite side of the room, mindful of any obstacles obscuring her path. When she finally reached the unfolding steps, she knew she was heading the right way. Being the immortal Keeper, she had all the time she needed to explore the tangible illusion of the castle and the city, built directly on its damned foundations... and yet she had not visited this area before. Now her senses were telling her that the ones she sought stood on the very rooftop of the church it all had begun from. Where the Dragon had awoken from his once-perpetual sleep.

Markings in the dust had indicated that the door had been opened before, and quite recently too. She set aside the half-melted candle and examined the door. Not only had it been opened for the first time since the construction of the once-proud house of God, but its hinges had been thoroughly oiled. The black gooey substance glittered in the candle-flame. If they had been rusted from decades of disuse, Marie knew she would not have been able to force her way through. Now the door surrendered without a single hitch, without a single noise.

Sunlight poured into the chamber, setting even the grimiest of goblets aglow. Of all things, sunlight had been widely considered to be the ultimate bane of any creature of the night, yet Marie knew it posed no threat to her husband. However, while the Prince of Darkness was not directly affected, his Heir could not boast of the same.

Noon had entered its domain not long ago, its heavenly rays of warmth reawakening the almost extinguished hope in the hearts of the people. In a single night, the city's streets were disfigured by such atrocities it had never dreamed of before: legions of demons had invaded this plane of existence, with one thought in mind: to sow death and destruction. For only when chaos and disorder have taken a hold of a society, could the King of Hell be summoned. Five hours had passed since that fateful calling and now, tired of living in fear of the unknown, people of Wygol emerged from hiding out into the smoky ruins of their city. Blissfully ignorant of the truth. For only a few people of this earth knew of what had transpired when the Devil had finally stepped upon this plain. Marie was one of them.

Two figures stood in the shadow – short as it might be – of one of the church's towers. One, a white-haired warrior encased in a protective jet black shell of an armor, the other wore a crimson coat embroidered with gold and silver trimming.

Watching them made Marie's heart skip a beat. Neither of them had noticed her arrival and kept talking, most likely reflecting on the past. The woman could not be sure: whatever words they uttered were lost in the wind. A deep breath combated her nauseous feeling of apprehension.

Only when she approached them, hem of her brilliant white dress whispering against the rock, did they turn around. Watching their shocked faces... Marie could not hold back a smile.

"It is so good to see you two bonding. Fills my heart with joy."

"Marie?" The Prince of Darkness seemed puzzled, yet genuine relief surfaced in his voice. "I was worried. Ever since the book and the throne room... I was afraid I'd never see you again."

"I am here, Gabriel; I am always here," she approached him, a smile stretching out her lips. "Even when you think I'm not."

Gabriel's pallid face lit up and Marie could feel his smirk widening, even when she gave the white-haired warrior a tight hug, mindful of the sharp ridges of his armor.

"How have you been, Mother?" he said, returning the embrace. "Ah, this reminds me. Mother has been helping me on my quest to recover your relics, Father."

"Truly?" the former knight gave her an adoring glance. "Then it seems she's not a figment of my imagination after all."

"I'm fine." Marie's lips twitched. "But how are you, Trevor? I've been told you were... were possessed by the Devil for a spell."

"I was," Trevor – who had adopted a new name for himself: Alucard, the Wolf – replied, albeit a bit curtly. "After the Leviathan perished in a burst of light, I was knocked unconscious and Lucifer seized the oppo-"

"No-no, do not try to explain." Marie raised her hands. "I'm not here to blame you, my boy."

Indeed, the Devil had tried evening the scales by challenging his arch-nemesis to a duel in the sky whilst controlling the body of his son, like a puppeteer pulling a marionette's strings. After suffering a crippling defeat, Satan tried saving his own hide by whisking his form away. Unfortunately for him, the legendary Vampire Killer, the only weapon sanctified by God Himself, found his black heart first. However, only the destruction of his material form – one of harpy-like legs and jet-black wings – followed. Lucifer's soul, most likely, was exiled to Hell once more.

"Luckily, he won't bother us any longer." Gabriel's – who, at the moment, donned the title of Dracul, the Dragon – smirk became just a little bit vicious. "It took him one thousand years to prepare this invasion, now it will take him three, if he decides to show his face again."

"Where do you think he is now?" Alucard blew a strand of hair out of his face.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully back in whatever cesspool he calls home."

"Perhaps. Although, I think Lucifer will not try to reclaim his throne on earth, or his place in Heaven after today."

"Never underestimate the fallen angel's stubbornness."

Marie listened to her men conversing, smiling widely. Just how soothing their voices sounded after all this time. Being the Keeper meant she had unlimited power of observing them, but she lacked the authority to interact with either of them. The vow had been lifted when Alucard pulled out the enchanted blade – his trusty Crissaegrim – out of Dracul's chest and set their plan in motion.

"What happens now? Do you have any plans?" she politely inquired of her family, involuntarily fidgeting with the sleeves of her dress.

"Now?" the elder vampire raised an eyebrow. "I haven't really thought about it. The battle concluded not several hours ago." His eyes widened. "Why do you ask? Is there a problem?"

Marie startled: were her emotions written so blatantly on her face? "Sadly, yes." She bowed her head and breathed in to keep her heart from racing needlessly. "There is something I need to tell you. Something I did not have the time to say the first time we met."

Dracul and Alucard exchanged worried – distressed even – looks.

She sighed before speaking up, futilely trying to keep her voice steady. "You see, long before," she gestured at the smoky ruins of Wygol city. _"A_ll this, I have been appointed the Keeper. The Watcher. I have kept you safe, my love, whilst you slept. I did not allow anyone to disturb your rest. But now_,__" her voice turned wistful against her will. "T_he King of Hell has been vanquished and there is no purpose for me, anymore. I am… my soul is trapped within the castle halls."

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Gabriel finally spoke up. "Is there a way to set you free?"

Marie bowed her head. "There is. I've heard of an artifact; its power, legends say, can break all spiritual bonds, all earthly chains. But… but, Gabriel, would you do this?" A shiver ran down her spine – she felt cold. "I can stay, I truly can! By your side. Til… til the very Heavens do us part."

Back when the dreaded Lords of Shadow were just dethroned and the Devil exiled from the primal plane, he had pleaded, begged her to stay. To not enter Heaven, to live with him just like before. Before her death. Even after her premature departure and the return of the God Mask to its rightful owner, she could hear him finally collapse to his knees, cry and scream hopelessly at the skies. Could their tale have been forged differently if she'd had the power to stay? Marie bit her lip: she knew the answer was no. Gabriel's ruin was predestined by forces, higher than Lucifer himself. He would have fallen nevertheless, with or without the Forgotten One's power.

And yet... especially after centuries of mute observation Marie had noticed just how much her husband had changed. Bizarrely enough, in an unambiguously good way. A constant frown woven into his brow had disappeared, the red light in his hellish eyes had died out. He smiled more and with each passing hour she could see more and more of her Gabriel – the man she had fallen in love with – and less of Dracul – the twisted creature she had come to internally despise.

Marie flinched when he briskly moved closer; Gabriel was just two inches taller than her, but he still managed to tower over her. He cupped her hands into his, mindful of the claws adorning his fingers.

"Marie." Hot weather hadn't stopped goosebumps from prickling her skin. "Everything I did… I did for you. But now I only want you to be happy – you deserve it." He forced a smile. "And I know I cannot provide that."

He was letting her go? After all what happened, he was letting her go? He had set out on his quest solely because of her; he said it himself. He cared not for the world nor its problems... and now this... she barely believed her ears.

"Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?" She swallowed her tears.

"Yes." He leaned in and let their foreheads touch, his ice against her fire. She felt short of breath. "I love you more than anything else in this world. You have given me a reason to live. You are a perfect woman who had gifted me with an equally perfect son. You gave me so much. You sacrificed so much. Well..." He paused to draw breath. "Now I repay my debt."

"I will find a way," Marie murmured. "I will find a way for you both to join me in this eternal celebration of life. I promise."

Gabriel did not reply, instead holding her gaze steadfast... and it brimmed with heartache. With dismay. His thumb gently wiped away her tears – when had she begun weeping? – staining her cheeks.

"Now... where can I find this item?" His cold hands slid down her shoulders.

"We. Where can _we_ find this item?" Shuffling footsteps, followed by a clank and, Alucard stepped forward, his golden eyes solemn. "There is no way I would leave Mother in the grasp of the castle's demon."

A surge of pride resurfaced in Marie and her mouth melted into a gentle grin. "The castle holds the key. That is everything I know at the moment. Perhaps more details will show up whilst you proceed. Sorry, I'm not much of a help."

"Nonsense, Marie-

"But you helped us-"

"I can allow you access to it whenever you are ready." Her smile grew in strength at their indignant expressions and determined nods. She let out a small laugh as a faint light blinked into existence right into her palm. She had transported Trevor in such a fashion before, but not Gabriel. "Just take my hand, my love."

A cloak of periwinkle light whirled up around them, shrouding them in its radiance. A blink and they were gone, sent back to the mirage of the once impenetrable fortress.


	2. The Bygone Foe

**A/N: PizzaDude: Thanks! But I will mist probably keep referring to him as Dracul, rather than Dracula. 'Cause in the Castlevania universe they're two different characters. **

**A/N: Changed the rating from M to T, but it can still return to M. The only M-like theme I'm intend on using is violence and gore, but later on.**

* * *

Illusions and apparitions could easily betray one's eyes in this place.

A creature of chaos had made the castle its home, centuries before the Lords of Shadow had come. It had been said that the Bernhard family, who originally owned the structure, had made a pact with a demon to deter unwanted visitors from their lands. The Bernhards' innate ability to wrestle vicious monsters from their home plane – one of which had been the Sovereign, the greatest of demons! – had proved to be essential to their plan.

The fiend had merged with the very stony foundations of the castle, bringing them to life. Corridors and tunnels shifted everyday, making it impossible to map. During Carmilla's reign, many a knight of the Brotherhood had perished in their futile attempts to do so. They had either starved to death or fell prey to the legions of the Vampire Queen. The castle itself had appeared to be passive, fir it lacked the power to intervene.

Carmilla had shrugged off any the creature's attempts to bind her to the structure, preferring to retain her independence. It made her mortal; even as a vampire, she could die at the hands of another. So it was prophesied, and so it happened. The Queen met her premature end at the hands of Gabriel Belmont, a Champion of God.

The infernal creature pitied not Carmilla, or her adoptive 'daughter.' Without a Lord roaming its halls, the castle fell into a slumber.

Its sleep would have lasted centuries, if not for unforeseen consequences. The Sovereign had tried breaching the final seal, fueled by revenge for decades of captivity, but the Champion had stopped his progress. The demise of his fellow fiend did not affect the structure, instead, it had focused its immediate attention on the single human being in its corridors. Deaf and dying, the man's failing legs had carried him only so far before he had succumbed to his wounds. His entire frame – dead as it might be – had pulsed with familiar power. The demon instantly recognized it as the Sovereign's, its former master's. Intrigued, the being had shifted its influence to the dead man, but before it could tap into his power, he had risen. The same curse that had plagued the former Queen and sustained by the blood of her daughter, now had taken roots in this human.

The man had roamed, endlessly and aimlessly, unaware of his surroundings, completely overtaken by the eternal hunger of the undeath. The castle's demon had dogged his every footstep and had become his shadow, unavoidably drawn to the source of the power, like a moth to a flame. It had recognized the man: it had been the same knight who had put an end to Carmilla's reign. Carmilla had dismissed its gifts, but this human was weak, confused, had no true realization of the strength he had stolen. The demon then had gnawed and chewed on the man's thoughts – replacing damaged ones, making its own mind his - until its very essence had fused the man's soul, essentially making him the demon's puppet.

A puppet with carefully hidden strings, so the doll would not even guess his actions were being controlled. The castle brimmed with delight – it finally had a master.

* * *

"I... don't recognize this place," Dracul said, glancing about. "I've never been in this part of the castle."

Alucard frowned. "Many centuries have I spent memorizing every stone of this place, but, like you, I am clueless about our whereabouts. Where do you think Mother has sent us?"

Grey walls, devoid of any decoration, stared back at them. The mosaic once adorning the floor had crumbled to dust beyond recognition. Moonlight glittered through the multitude of holes in the ceiling. Other parts of the castle boasted of exquisite tapestries, rugs and statues. And this hallway... it created a fleeting impression of someone having removed all the decoration on purpose. Because the place was abandoned? Why would the demon lock off this wing? Certainly not because of its decrepit state.

"Gives off an impression of a gallery," the elder vampire noted. "It looks like as though, art had enriched this wing with its vibrancy. Once."

Alucard slowly nodded. "Best we move forward. It seems the castle hasn't noticed us on its territory yet. I've had my share of jailer-slaying for one day."

"Indeed. Its avatar may be destroyed, but it still holds sway over the legions."

Their footsteps scraped against the cracked floors, unsettling a brood of bats nesting in one of the fissures. Leathery wings throbbed against the air, and soon their chirping was silenced by the howling wind. Its symphony sounded as it should, but the end took on a shrill note. Now it resembled a scream.

"Did you hear that?" Alucard stopped in his tracks.

"Yes." Gabriel warily scanned their surroundings. "Obviously the serene appearance of this art gallery cannot be wholly trusted."

Wind murmured along his voice, as if listening to it. It bubbled, hissed before altering itself into a deep, all-too familiar tone.

"_Is it really you?"_ The words resonated from the walls, echo over-layering in wondrous patterns. _"Come to gloat at the former Sovereign of Darkness?"_

That voice, coupled with its peculiar choice of words, had haunted him for many years – Gabriel identified its owner in mere seconds. The revelation did not amuse him, but moreso confused him.

"The Forgotten One?" he questioned the wind, keeping his voice calm.

Another shrill scream interrupted whatever the creature had to say – or, perhaps, it was _his_ own distorted cry? – and the apparition vanished as boldly as it appeared. Dracul stared for a few seconds, before shrugging off the surprise.

"The Forgotten One?" Trevor repeated in a curious tone. "That's the demon who had threatened the erasure all of mankind?"

The elder startled. "How do _you_ know about him? The battle happened when you were just a child!"

Words could not express how much he had loathed seizing the demon's power. Was it the only possible outcome in defeating the creature? During all these years he, had justified his actions by stating he had done so to protect the humanity, but he knew it not to be true. And the three-century war that followed had only proven it.

"I've read a few books on him. Plus I noticed an inscription in one of the rooms while carrying out my duty of restoring your Chaos power."

"An inscription... The only mention of him I made..." Gabriel's shoulders sank. "Where exactly did the castle hide the Chaos?"

Alucard gave a weak smile. "Mother described it as the place 'where you had lost your mind after defeating the Forgotten One.'"

"The Forbidden Wing?" Dracul recoiled. "You've been to the Forbidden Wing?"

"If you prefer to call it that."

"Trevor, it's _forbidden_ for a reason! What did you see there?"

"Plenty of things."

Gabriel stared back at Trevor in mild surprise and disbelief before snapping back to reality. His son made it clear: he wouldn't elaborate on what he had witnessed in that particular part of the castle. In the end, he chose to focus his attention on the more important matter: the unexpected revival – recovery? – of his old adversary.

"We should move," he stated, glancing in the direction of the resonating voices. "Honestly, I am curious at the demon's sudden arrival."

"As am I." Alucard murmured.

A dying echo guided the vampires towards a passageway, framed by crumbled statues of demi-humanoid demons. Was the Forgotten One leading them into a trap? The former Sovereign had proven to be quite blunt and straightforward in their first – and admittedly, last – encounter. Still, whatever means had resurrected the creature could have made him more devious and somber. Many a winter had passed since they battled.

"Has the castle always looked like this?" Alucard's tone became a hushed whisper.

Indeed, the hallway appeared... different from what he had come to expect from the castle's sentient cobblestone in the centuries he'd spent in its embrace. Peculiar swirls, circles, and soft, edgeless shapes covered the walls in its intricate alien pattern. They alone visually broadened the narrow twists of corridors running into the depths of the structure. He raised his head – similar teardrop shapes adorned the otherwise ruined ceiling. For a moment, Dracul mused on their design: the forms reminded him of the ridges on the Forgotten One's colossal armor. Had he managed to alter the very stones despite his alleged destruction? How could the castle not notice this?

They followed the flowing ornamentation, each of their steps forcing other bizarre things to resurface. The hall bathed in a multitude of green and violet lights, which emanated from crystallized drops of unknown liquid on the walls. They seemed to grow out of the very stone itself, biting at the surrounding darkness like a hound with a thirst for blood.

Soon enough, the passageway evolved into a grand alcove, flooded with colors of such brilliancy, it made Gabriel's – accustomed to inky blackness – eyes water. As his sight adapted to the vibrancy, details came into view, such as a gargantuan stony representation of his old foe in the center of the chamber. The Forgotten One had one of his hands outstretched, as if reaching for Heaven, while the other remained at his side. Identical to the ones they had seen earlier, teardrops adorned the smooth curves of his enameled armor.

"Ah, here you are. I did not anticipate your... visit. Or your scion's," the being intoned, voice radiating from the statue. "State your business, thief."

Gabriel disregarded the insult. "Shouldn't you be dead, creature?"He couldn't help but feel skeptical at this turn of events – he had undone the demon's life in a single swipe. And, yet, here he was – or rather the fiend's image – in his castle. Part of him sternly believed it was just a masterful illusion on the castle's part. Like the love-struck version of its former owner, Carmilla.

"I am dead." The Forgotten One replied. "I ceased to exist when you stole my powers and killed me."

"And still you are able to voice your thoughts."

The demon hummed. "The blood and the souls of your victims feed the creature trapped inside this infernal place and, much as it is disgusts me, I became the first. But it could only gorge upon insignificant souls – human souls, to be precise. Me, being the Sovereign, it could not devour. In response, it imprisoned my soul in its stone. Or... this is how I understand it. I loathe that the creature originated from the same plane as I did."

"So, this is your _soul_ I am conversing to?" No matter how intently he listened to the demon's words, Dracul could not place any malice or hatred in his voice. The Forgotten One sounded more... pensive? Still, he decided not to let his guard down. He glanced at his son. Alucard held his hand on the Crissaegrim's hilt – he returned to wielding his chosen blade, – brow furrowed.

"In a sense. And you're still in one piece." His voice was heavy with languor. "Just how many of your human 'years' have passed since our fateful fight?"

The demon's lethargic tone made Dracul raise an eyebrow. "One thousand and ten."

"Intriguing. Time flows steadily within these bounds. No beginning, no end."

"Why would Marie send us to _him_ of all creatures?" Dracul addressed Alucard quietly. "He's a monster who threatened to wipe out humankind, once."

"I know," the white-haired warrior nodded in agreement. "But, perhaps he possesses the knowledge we seek."

"I highly doubt that."

"What other reason would Mother direct us to him for? Worth a shot, I say." Trevor appeared inexorable, much to Gabriel's sorrow.

"What is it that you seek?" A familiar low note settled down in the Forgotten One's voice.

"An item. An artifact which can break any kind of bond any kind of chain tangible, or not." Alucard stepped forward, not letting his eyes off the demon.

The One went silent. Only a faint hum emanating from his stony features proved he had not distanced himself from the vampires. "You seek the Trumpet, then." he eventually said, obviously choosing his words.

"A trumpet?" Why did it sound so familiar?

"Not an ordinary Trumpet, Gabriel. The instrument once belonged to one of Heaven's Chosen... incidentally, your namesake, I believe. It was stolen by Lucifer when he first fell. So God could not intervene with his business. God is omniscient and omnipotent, yes, but even He cannot descend to Earth without it."

Oh, that's why. The legendary trio of saintly Archangels – Raphael, Michael and Gabriel – called Heaven their home and according to the Book of Revelations, the being he was named after would blow his trumpet to announce the Judgment Day: the Lord's second coming to this land. A moment when the dead would rise and there would be no further separation of Heaven and Earth. Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on the perspective – he had taken care of the latter prior these events.

"I am truly surprised you're acquainted with the Bible, creature. Our one and only book of God... ironically, written by men." He placed his hands on his hips.

"I'm pleasantly surprised, Father," Alucard said, with a slight smile. "Don't you harbor any hatred towards it?"

"No hatred lasts forever," he shifted his shoulders as he faced the Forgotten One. "Where can we find the Horn?"

"I do not know where its resting place lies," the One said. "Unlike the Mask you spent so long to retrieve, it's not from this plane. You are required to enter other realms to find the Trumpet..." he trailed off.

The pause the demon took after uttering the last sentence filled Gabriel with disquiet. Yet he said nothing, waiting for the fiend to, presumably, recover.

"I believe your power is more than capable of ripping through the matter of reality," he stated after the heavy silence turned unbearable.

"In my hands, yes," the Forgotten One quickly corrected him. "You, on the other hand, can manifest only the tiniest particle of my strength."

"If you allude to-"

"I do not suggest anything. I am fully aware I cannot reclaim the elements which you have snatched under my nose. However, my secondary powers can still be of some use."

"Secondary powers?" The Dragon's mouth twitched.

"I created not only Chaos and Void, but also their sisters: Harmony and Creation." The demon's voice became smug. "If combined, they could forge entire landscapes, bring to pass new creatures. I have used my primary skills to shatter the seal of my damned prison – that's why you wield only them."

"Where are Harmony and Creation now?"

"They are the only influences keeping me stable in this husk, so, I presume, they are not far. The castle certainly has an... odd sense of humor, and hid them near me to prolong my cursed existence."

"And how can these energies help us?" He tapped a pointy finger against his lips, intrigued.

"You, personally?" Aspiration showed through the demon's otherwise emotionless voice. "Not much. If you approach either of the powers, they would surely trigger an explosive reaction with your blade or your claws. On the other hand, if _I _would reunite with them, I could reconstruct my body and leave this place far behind."

Gabriel let out a half-amused chuckle – 'leave this place far behind?' After the humiliation that was his defeat in the Underworld? The One must have grown morose and hopeless to actually propose a deal like this. Yet, he decided to hold back the acidic response rolling off his tongue.

"And what do you offer in return for your freedom?" From the corner of his eye, he could see Alucard giving him an incredulous glare, and he shrugged lazily.

"Passage to your goal."

His laughter died out, giving way to a suspicious stare. Had he heard the demon correctly?

"You have stated that only the Void can open-"

"I never said that the Void is the only thing which can transport you." The Forgotten One sounded smug. "Let's just say... I have managed to salvage one of my creations from the castle's clingy hands. It isn't as accurate as the Void, but, frankly, you have no choice in the matter."

The last sentence raked coarsely across the vampire's ears. He never had freedom of will in anything, it seemed. Always tugged on the leash, like a pup, while others guided him inevitably to his destiny. In the end, he decided not to dwell on these cheerless thoughts – he had already dedicated a few decades solely to them – and concentrated instead on the demon's speech.

"You are just a fraction of your soul and you possess the means of entering new dimensions?" He impatiently tapped the knuckles of his hand against the hip.

"Oh, believe me, Gabriel; never underestimate what a mere fraction of one's soul can do," the Forgotten One said. "So, do we have a deal? You free me of this husk and I leave you and your scion to whatever noble quest you initially set out on. With the means of getting where you need."

"I don't trust you." Dracul rewarded his old foe with a dark glare. "You'd stab us in the back, given any opportunity."

The demon lowered his voice to a murmur. "You would be surprised to know that I have absolutely no intention of betraying you. Consider: you defeated me _without_ my powers. Guess what would happen, if I attacked you? It is ludicrous, impossible. And I am a prudent being: I would not throw my second chance away because of some petty revenge. It is Lucifer who is known as the King of Lies. I, myself, tend to keep my promises."

"Care to give an example?"

"Gladly. Your presence alone proves that at least one of my, ahem... boasts during our battle came true. _'You shall suffer. You will never find peace in light, nor darkness'_? Sound familiar?"

"How droll," the elder vampire muttered under his breath. He glanced at Alucard and sighed. "Fine. We will retrieve your powers so you could send us to other realms."

"Splendid!" The Forgotten One's tone picked up. "Do not dally. I want to get out of this shell as much as you want to attend to your Trumpet business."


	3. Twin Powers

**A/N: Thank you for the kind words and reviews, everyone! :)**

* * *

"Do you trust him?" Alucard crossed his arms.

"Not in the slightest," Dracul replied. "Unfortunately, the Forgotten One has perfected a win-win scenario for himself. He will free himself of the shell, either way. Of course, we have the choice of declining his offer..." He pursed his lips. "I would rather not get tangled in whatever plan the demon is hatching, but we don't have an alternative."

Alucard nodded, a determined glint in his amber eyes. "Then we will comply with his wishes, for a bit. See where it gets us."

"Frankly, I am not afraid of him backstabbing us," the elder said. "If it comes to that, I will be sure to destroy him permanently. But, the time we desperately need. It would slip through our fingers."

"Indeed, the castle never sleeps. We must hurry."

The vampires obediently followed a glittering trail etched in the metamorphosed floors, as well as walls and ceiling, courtesy of the imprisoned one. Its arrhythmical pulse reminded Gabriel of a heartbeat - where had the Forgotten One drawn inspiration for this? He was sure the demon lacked anything even closely resembling a heart.

Gabriel knew not the One's true motivation for trying to erase mankind, beside vengeance. Revenge was indeed a powerful emotion, but ultimately flawed. After he had carried out the mission, exiling Lucifer and his ilk to the deepest crevice of Hell, and sending Zobek to the Netherworld, he had had all the time in the world to think on his goals. He had paid a terrible price, and made sure others did so, as well. And, now... He couldn't banish the thought of the emptiness of his life.

"Oh, great." Trevor's muttered breath made him jolt. "It seems our conversation has not gone unnoticed."

A puddle of oily blood bubbled and foamed on the ground, gradually drowning the hallway in its crimson light.

The white-haired warrior took a defensive stance and unsheathed his weapon, enchanted blade glimmering in the conflicting colors of red and green.

The elder's clawed fingers dug deep into his palm, drawing his own blood and bringing forth his eldritch whip.

Last time, the castle had tried – admittedly, with success – converting his own legions against him, forcing even the most loyal vampire to forget who its master and creator was.

A second later, and a deformed hand formed out of the boiling substance, clawing fruitlessly at the air, as it quickly grew with detail. A hulking beast emerged from the depths, a grotesque monstrosity Dracul had never seen before. It had six skeletal limbs, each ending with a pincer, skinless muscles, and an eyeless muzzle. Blood dripped from its throbbing hide, flowing like streams. They appeared not to have an end, streaming infinitely, as the floor absorbed the fluid, hungrily, till the last drop. The beast opened its vicious maw, showing off several rows of rotten teeth, and roared.

"_Do not trust the demon-imposter." _An amalgamation of a thousand voices of the castle echoed in his ears.

"_He's planning to dethrone you, our Lord."_

"_We imprisoned him for a reason."_

"_Come with us, our Liege!"_

The scarlet whip whistled through the air, colliding with its target and leaving a pulsating wound in the monster's tissue, immediately reducing its screech to a pathetic whimper. The vampire lowered his hand: the attack was a warning. A warning for the castle not to become tangled in their affairs.

The beast reeled and promptly shrugged off the hit, as, at the same time, the vampire gasped with sudden pain. Beads of blood rolled off his chest, trickling from a freshly-made rupture. A thought flashed through his mind. A blood fiend! The thing was made out of his own ichor! Apparently, the castle had come up with a better plan instead of sending waves of lesser vampires and mindless skeletons. He must watch them from afar, if he was to avoid injuring himself. Gabriel wasn't surprised; the castle had attempted something similar in the past, but not as open and bold as this encounter.

"_We had no choice, our Prince!" _The castle's pleas pulsed in his mind.

"_It was the only way!"_

"Damn that influence to the bowels of Sheol!" he hissed, involuntarily stepping back.

"What happened?" Alucard questioned, shooting a worried glance in his direction.

"It has assured I wouldn't fight these creatures!"

"And the reli-" Alucard broke off, as he ducked under the beast's claw. It might have shielded itself from any incoming attacks, but it certainly had trouble manipulating its lumbering form. With a trained warrior's eye, Gabriel noticed that the younger vampire had plenty of opportunities to counterattack and dispose of the monster, but, ultimately, he had decided against it. An unaccustomed feeling of uncertainty surged through his mind.

After another parry, the Wolf rammed his gauntlet-clad fist into its stomach, toppling the much-taller beast off its legs. Alucard dashed back, still holding the Crissaegrim aloft. Did the beast return all of his attacks, or was it vulnerable to magic?

"_Please, don't make us use force!"_

As the beast squealed, its cries echoing off the fervently painted hallway, Dracul's blade blinked into existence, hushing and drowning out any other color around it. Hoarfrost began drawing wondrous patterns as the tip of the sword dug into the floor. Dracul traced a complete circle with it, aiming, and reaped the air before the monster in a singular vertical cut.

Void slid off the surface of the sword, materializing into a tangible frozen fire. The blaze enveloped the beast, momentarily chaining all of its limbs with a shell of purple ice. He patiently waited for an aftershock, but none followed. Indeed, the being was immobilized, its bloody hide in perfect condition.

"It seems it reflects only physical blows, dealt to its body," Dracul noted, lowering the blade, but not unsummoning it. He approached the frozen being, scrutinizing its features. "Truly disgusting. The castle's obstinacy knows no bounds."

"Indeed, it is in abundance here," Alucard sheathed his sword. "But the problem is still unsolved: how can we get rid of this... this..."

"Blood fiend."

"Blood fiend?"

"It is composed of my blood," the former knight elaborated. "And seeing as I draw my strength from it, basically, leads to a backlash every time I strike it. I have suffered through something similar before."

"How so?" Alucard's back remained stiff, despite his seemingly relaxed posture.

Dracul shuddered, distaste curling his lips. "Earlier this night, the castle conjured the image of Carmilla. And... No, this isn't important! If summed up, she had tested my physical abilities."

Trevor nodded, smirking just a bit. "It's a curious sight to spy you uncomfortable, Father."

"Uncomfortable, indeed," he muttered. "Anyway, we have larger problems. The castle has found a way to cripple me... It knows perfectly I would not battle against this foul spawn if I wish to retain my individuality. It is becoming foolhardy."

"I thought you'd decided to postpone the rite of your death," Alucard's eyes brimmed with disquiet. "Why would it grow desperate if nothing threatens its existence?"

"I am slowly, but steadily, beginning to shed the thoughts it keeps planting in my mind." The elder looked away. "Ones of audacity, vehemence and fury. Hence, I resist its call. It might be uppish enough to lead a revolt, but without me, it is nothing."

Alucard did not reply, but the heartwarming glimmer reflecting in his golden eyes said everything he needed to know. A weak smile twitched the corners of his mouth.

"Perhaps_ I _can destroy the creature; no bond connects me with the castle's being." He idly fingered the hilt of his weapon. "Crissaegrim saps away magic, so it _shouldn't_ affect you."

"Yes, I remember that peculiar ability of your sword quite well. Can't say I've recovered my strength completely... Well, my hands are tied, and time is of the essence... Proceed as you will."

The enchanted blade slithered out of its scabbard with a metallic hiss as it jumped obediently into the younger vampire's hands. The weapon must be at least partially sentient, then, Dracul concluded. He didn't know much about how and when his son had procured such a sword. He only understood that Alucard had used the broken stake of the Vampire Killer as its hilt, hence its spell-draining attacks.

Gabriel mentally prepared himself for the being to retaliate as the warrior approached the paralyzed beast. The last sting had _hurt_, despite it being just a shallow, unfocused hit.

Alucard's sigh echoed through the air, when at last he swept through the monster's abdomen, cleaving it neatly into two.

A horrific screech filled the stuffy air, and the former knight startled at the sheer viciousness of the attack. Alucard had repeated the execution move he had utilized as Zobek's Lieutenant. Back then, he had carved one of Lucifer's demons to ribbons.

The elder peered down at the floor. No pain followed after his son had dealt the blow, yet he felt uneasy at the way Alucard had chosen to tear asunder the mindless creature. Undeath was a curse, and he had shown more control over his untamed, monstrous side than Dracul could ever hope, but still hints of it seeped through Trevor's carefully fitted armor.

"It is done." The warrior shook the red droplets off of his blade before sheathing it away. "Shall we proceed?"

"Yes, of course," Dracul nodded. "We've loitered long enough."

Perhaps, it would be wise to bring this issue up on a later date.

* * *

"So, this is the Forgotten One's power?" The elder raised an eyebrow. "How peculiar."

He watched the entity warily as the ectoplasmic being bobbed up and down in the air with regular intervals. Its shifting colors – an intriguing mixture of matte green and intense violet – seemed to fill the very air with their flamboyance. It was as if the undertones were... sentient, locked in an eternal dance. Dracul had a feeling, if he would have reached out, he could feel the colors surge around his hand like a gentle breeze, intangible and palpable at the same time. This celebration, he thought, could create entire landscapes, bring forth existing creatures or forge new ones from scratch. What could have been undone by the Void, Creation could beget. What Chaos could have razed to the ground, Harmony could put into order.

The colors had broken their flow at the sound of his voice, further proving his theory. Anticipating something. Anticipation meant intelligence. The Forgotten One had mentioned Creation and Harmony being his secondary powers, yet they radiated with such unknown intensity that it made his skin crawl. Moreover, the entities were aware of their presence now. For better, or worse, they still had to find out.

The unknown entity's visage – or something akin to it – distorted, sending the colorful spirits astray. In a moment, the dance stopped, bluntly and unexpectedly. The specters formed two circles around the being in the center, both moving counterclockwise at different speed.

"_Aesor ur?_" the being intoned, genderless voice echoing off the walls. Though its voice lacked any emotion, Dracul could sense hidden displeasure in the movement pattern of the spirits. It was rigid... nothing like their spiral dance before. His hands curled into fists.

"_Saba? Ecral?_" it questioned, shifting a bit closer. "_Stelahru saba aio ecral uvihr. Aekubon uvihr te Ieoroch. Glohro Ieoroch?_"

"Ieoroch?" the elder repeated, eyes narrowing.

"_Ieoroch ur._"

"Ieoroch... you mean the Forgotten One?"

A bright pulse warped the specters around the being. "_Ur."_

"I guess that's a 'yes'," Dracul concluded, albeit with hesitation. "We're acting on his behalf. We're here to reunite you with your master."

"_Ieoroch doi._" it replied, once again bobbing up and down.

"How do we ferry you?"

"_Saba. Ecral._" The entity's visage rippled. "_Saba aio ecral phele simula te acou aio lohn._"

"_'Simula?' _As in 'simulacrum?'" The vampire rubbed the nape of his neck. "Images... could you be referring to my powers, Chaos and Void?"

"Perhaps, they mean they can be transported using Chaos and Void?" Alucard suggested, gazing at the translucent specters.

"The demon had said it would be unwise to come into contact with this energy."

"Come into contact, yes. But, what about... nudging them in the right direction?"

"Or perhaps they're telling me _not_ to use it. To avoid engulfing the entire room in a searing inferno."

"You're saying this, as if you can die, Father." Alucard's smile stretched wide. "Plus, fire to you is as harmful as water to a human."

Dracul tried glowering at his progeny for this quip, but, instead, found himself smirking. Truly, the warrior's lighthearted smile was contagious and he savored the moment. Rarely did he get to see his son so delighted.

"Mock the elderly now, do you?"

Trevor rewarded him with an unimpressed glance, the remnants of his earlier grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "It's my favorite past time, _old man_."

"Do not become presumptuous, _boy_. Fine, for you, I'll try." He sighed and laughed softly to himself. "You did cull the beast without spilling my insides. More of a reason to trust your judgment."

Unlike the sword, locked away secure in a pocket dimension, his infernal gloves were always with him. The Chaos Claws roared into life, coiling around his wrists and covering his arms up to his elbows in a fiery shell. He flexed the gauntlets, sending drops of liquid fire into every direction. Where they met the ground, the floor hissed and cracked under the intense heat.

"I'm curious," Dracul said, as the specters gathered around the magical talons. "How did you know the castle's curse wouldn't retort to the blow you landed upon the creature?"

To his disappointment, only the purple-tinned ghosts swirled around his hands – their boneless bodies seemed to dim out as they passed through the torrid air - whilst the ones radiating with lush green stayed behind, unaffected. So, the violet must be the representation of Harmony...

Mindful not to let the specters soar too close to the flames, he took a small step back. As the spirits moved after him without delay, he let out a small hum.

"Opposites attract, huh," Dracul mused, glancing at his son. "Take my blade to guide the Creation energy. I hear, you're quite familiar with it."

"Dual-wielding is not exactly my preferred style," Alucard chuckled, masterfully catching the sword with one hand. "And yours isn't as perfectly balanced as mine."

The elder arched a dismissive eyebrow at him, trying to appear as disdainful as he possibly could. Although, he knew not if he had succeeded.

They trekked in silence for a bit, each pulling on his own string of the incorporeal being, the impersonation of the Forgotten One's power.

"To answer your earlier question. I'm not completely sure," Alucard suddenly spoke up after a while. "I know Crissaegrim effectively absorbs all types of magic. But would it affect whatever power the castle's utilizing against you... I must admit, it was a Russian roulette and I apologize."

"A what?" The elder vampire perked up.

"Ah, I forget. It is a game of chance. One places a single bullet into the cylinder of a gun, puts it to his head, and pulls the trigger. One-sixth is your chance of blowing your head clean off your shoulders."

The elder's eyes widened at hearing the 'rules' of the game. However, he quickly composed himself. "Toying with death." He sneered. "I guess, Zobek had had quite a lot on his shoulders."

"Not anymore." Alucard shrugged.

"Not anymore," Dracul repeated. The words had never tasted so sweet.


	4. The Maelstrom

**A/N: Even though RL events are keeping me busy, I have the time to upload the next chapter. Thank you for the feedback!**

* * *

The entire floor shuddered and shook, shards of marble and rock threatening to bury the vampires under their blanket.

Dodging the falling debris, Dracul mulled over that reuniting the demon with his powers was not the most brilliant idea. Twice. Perhaps, his former adversary had chosen this tactic in hopes of encasing them both into solid stone. Effectively disposing of them. The vampire ground his teeth together. Alucard appeared nowhere in sight, concealed by the clouds of pulverized cobble and soot.

A humongous crack ran down the Forgotten One's stony image. The vampire cursed under his breath, as a section of the southern wall caved in, but the next moment he spread his body in a cloud of particles. He had no intention of getting squashed by a giant slab of marble, even if it would not snuff out the flame of his existence.

The mist snaked around the rubble, seeping through the cracks, steadily homing in on the demonic statue. Once right in front of it, the elder yanked the smog into a solid form once again.

A spectral wolf, woven out of blue flames, landed near him and slowly melted into Alucard's humanoid form. Apart from a few bruises, he seemed to be fine.

A terrifying roar eclipsed the sound of the collapsing stone as the resurrected demon stepped out of his shell. The Forgotten One dusted off the remains of his material prison, stretching his wiry muscles, that dripped with green ooze. The titan-tall beast moved his palm and the familiar faceless spirits began circling around him, recreating the ridges, swirls, and curls of his enameled armor. Soon enough, the released archfiend stood before the vampires, easily towering over both of them. And with his resurrection, the cataclysm around them ceased as abruptly as it had begun.

The demon's beady eyes burrowed deep into his, yet Dracul did not flinch. Not now, nor during their previous encounter. The Sovereign and the Dragon glared at each other, both reliving the flashbacks of the encounter where destiny had decided to intertwine their paths.

With his muscles strained to a critical point, the vampire huffed disdainfully. He could not pinpoint what the archfiend was thinking – a ornamented mask covered his true visage – yet, he could see the demon's confident posture.

The Forgotten One was the first to look away, and the vampire cracked a malicious smile.

"So," the demon spoke up, cocking his crowned head to his side. "You upheld your part of the bargain, Gabriel. Truly, I'm impressed."

"Your compliment falls on deaf ears, beast, I assure you." Dracul folded his arms. "We had a deal. Now fulfill your promise."

"Ah, yes, the Trumpet." the Forgotten One sauntered past them. "A tool which can break any bond. What, pray tell, what are you going to do with it?"

"That is none of your concern," he retorted, setting after the giant.

"Well, whatever it is, it must be valuable indeed. You are very well aware of my power, knightling, aware that even without Chaos and Void, I can raze this land to ashes-"

"Mindless boasts got you this far."

"And, yet, you have freed me of my prison." The Forgotten One squatted down, peering at the vampire with distant curiosity. "What if I intend to stay here, in your mortal realm? To let my plan come into fruition at last, while you hop across the dimensions in search for your precious Trumpet?"

"I will stay here and supervise the beast." Alucard stepped forward, somehow managing to glare the demon down.

The archfiend let out a low undaunted chuckle. "I have to disappoint you, Scion; while you hold great potential, you are but a gnat compared to your father. He is the one to make the decision."

Was that a second compliment in the past few minutes? "I will strike you down without a second thought if you dare violate our deal." Dracul's hooded eyes narrowed to slits.

"_'Release me of my imprisonment, and I will grant you passage to your goal.'_ That was our deal. I will keep my promise, but by the end of your quest, I will be far, far away. Or, how would you say, attending to my own affairs."

"Run as far as you will, with your tail tucked between your legs, beast, but it is only a matter of time before my jaws close on your throat." Acid dripped in his voice. "As I recall, you had surrendered your pathetic, sniveling excuse of a life to me. It's not difficult for me to track you down once more, like the dog that you are, and collect that debt. Force you to address me, not by my birth name, but by '_my Liege_' every _single_ day of your existence in servitude. Make the once-proud Sovereign bow down and kiss the ground I walk upon. You would be reduced to a witless cell, the offal of my legions. And that would be just the beginning of your new life."

The Forgotten One fell completely silent, immobile, with not a single muscle twitching as if a gorgon had petrified the former Sovereign with her alien, steadfast gaze. His expression, so cleverly hidden behind the mask, betrayed no emotion, no thought. Then, against all odds, a chortle escaped the demon's mouth, quickly ripening into a full-fledged laugh.

The vampire frowned upon this so-called reaction, but refrained from commenting. His earlier self would have butchered the demon for both his impudence, and his deceitfulness, but now he was perplexed, puzzled at the Forgotten One's actions. Was the demon truly sane, or had centuries of captivity left their imprint on his mind?

The laughter cut out, suddenly, as the demon rose to his feet, once again focused.

"You fancy yourself the Judge, don't you?" the Forgotten One uttered solemnly. "The one and only to administer the lives of those beneath you. Dispatch them all to Purgatory, to be sorted out, like cattle. 'Send them all to a better life,' wasn't it?"

He pointed his clawed finger at the vampire. "But the time will come that you, yourself, will be judged before the Court. Do you know what awaits you, in the end?"

The fiend, much to Gabriel's displeasure, had a point. He might be God's Champion, but – he had a hunch – the title could only delay the trial, the holy retribution. All souls, upon release, passed through Purgatory, where the Justicars would determine one's fate in the afterlife: the salvation of Heaven, or the damnation of Hell. And he already knew which sentence they would carry out.

"You have lied not only to your Scion, but to yourself, as well," the Forgotten One continued, without pondering his silence. "All those you have killed – that you presumed you sent to a 'better place' – ended up here. Within the confines of your castle!"

He let out a satisfied chuckle. "You have not been sending them to Heaven, but anchoring their souls to this place. Feeding them to the castle's creature, nourishing it, giving it sentience. Gradually letting it become a parasite to gorge upon your personality. You have been reduced to a mere slave, without the power to make your own decisions. And a slave cannot have servants on his own, now can he?"

The next moment, Dracul's blazing talons raked across the Forgotten One's leg. They rived through the protective shell as easily, as one cracks a chestnut, exposing the pulsating muscle underneath. He was not aware of his actions. All he wanted was to gag the arrogant demon, once and for all. And when the vampire's fingers dug deep into the green flesh, skewering the tissue, a gargled cry reached out for his ears. It made him smile. Perhaps, tearing away a limb would teach the fiend respect.

The giant's armored fist swept him away before he could proceed with his plan. He tumbled back to his feet as his facial features wove themselves into a bestial snarl. The elder was about to leap after his foe, when a thought invaded his mind.

Anger had always been the easiest emotion to cling to. The most common one. For several centuries, he had felt nothing but raw hate. It drove his very being. And, the consequences...

* * *

The metal knob of the cross, thrumming with familiar red energy, tore at his side, akin to a venomous snake. He nearly dropped the sword – the blow had paralyzed his entire arm, up to the shoulder. He let out a low growl, but his opponent remained unmoved, spinning the chain, obviously preparing to unleash a onslaught of quick, successive blows. Even the slightest of grazes, empowered by shadow magic, could easily shred his muscles.

The vampire dis solved his body into smog, evading the first hit, and crept away from his opponent, buying himself some time to heal. All the wounds, all the pain, shallow and insignificant as they might be, added up, creating a blistering sensation of agony. No, he couldn't die! He couldn't allow this Brotherhood upstart to win!

The dark-haired crusader cursed as the chain retracted back into the combat cross's body without reaching its target.

"Get back here!" He yelled on the top of his lungs. "You coward! Face me in fair combat!"

The Prince only began reforming his body when his keen hearing picked up on the whirling sound of the combat chain. The spiked knob passed through the smoke, a few inches from his face and the warmth of the shadow magic stung his skin.

Quickly, his hands seized the white-hot chain. The heat did not bother him – an incarnadine inferno welled up inside of him, granting him strength and filling him with ire. Poor honorable fool. He had made it this far, he had challenged the Lord of the castle to a duel, but in the end, all that awaited him was death.

The stunned look on the soldier's face made him grin. A single powerful tug on the chain, and the combat cross – one of the replicas created by Gandolfi – slipped from the warrior's grasp. And, with it, any hopes of him triumphing over the Dragon.

"Tsk, tsk, they couldn't recreate the Vampire Killer." The Prince chortled, as he picked up the weapon. "It seems your darling mother doesn't want to be avenged, boy. The wench should have lent you more power."

But, no, the warrior wasn't quite done yet. He pulled out a short blade from his boot and lunged straight at him. What resilience! Yes, he could certainly use men like this in his ranks. Now, if only every soldier of his legion had the determination of this holy warrior. The Order would have fallen much faster. Bah, it mattered not. Time was his ally, after all.

"I presume that's the knife you wanted to disfigure my heart with." Dracul sidestepped at the last moment, laughing as the warrior dashed uselessly past him.

Before the man could catch his breath and react, the vampire's claws curled around the soft flesh of his neck. The Lord raised him into the air, flailing him like a puppet as the warrior pawed at his grip. He gasped and choked, blotches of blue surfacing on his face. Soon, when his struggles waned into nothingness and his eyes began rolling into the back of his head, the Prince of Darkness loosed his grasp and let the Order's champion fall onto the floor.

As the boy fought for every single rasping gasp of breath, the vampire took a step closer, twirling the combat cross in his hands.

"Intriguing," Dracul noted, tapping the iron crucifix against his palm. "You're not the first to get past my guards, but you're certainly the first one to confront me in person. I'm impressed, and a compliment isn't something I bestow joyously. You've earned my utmost respect, soldier."

"B-burn in Hell, d-devil," the man managed in response, breathing unevenly.

"Oh, I fully intend to, yes." He nodded solemnly. "Right after the 't_he sun becomes black as sackcloth_ made of _hair_, and the whole _moon becomes _as _blood_.' Revelations, 6:12."

He fully expected for the man to try to tip the scales in his favor one last time. They all did.

The warrior jumped onto his feet, dagger in his right hand, aiming for his heart. Dracul effortlessly fended off his clumsy attack, and, in retaliation, plunged the soldier's own weapon deep into his chest.

The crunching sound of the sternum cracking was muffled out by the soldier's blared howl. It tunefully caressed his eardrums, drawing silent comparisons to music. But even the most melodious theme had to be silenced in the end.

Blood gushed out of the warrior's mouth, freckling the vampire's face into a crimson mosaic. The misery, the anguish reflecting in those pale-blue eyes made him smile with delight. He savored the moment, slowly and intensely, just like a gentleman who has just tasted a fine wine. He leaned forward, so close to the fallen knight's face that he could feel his choked, hot breath. Hear his erratic heartbeat.

"In other words," the Prince whispered. "I intend to live forever."

* * *

With every action, a consequence followed.

And when Gabriel met gazes with Alucard, the end product of that predestined battle, all his rage, all the hatred... it just vanished. Instead, a wholly new sensation overwhelmed him. Horrible guilt ravaged his thoughts, uncertainty dulled out his senses. And somehow, he realized the truth behind the Forgotten One's callous words.

All this time, faint murmurs had guided his instincts, offered advice and hinted on what could be done. He hadn't questioned the origins of the whispers, preferring to focus on his mission at hand: to wipe out the treacherous Brotherhood of Light. Too late had he understood the source of these unpleasant thoughts. An idea, a single strand of thought, planted deep into his mind, had sprouted into a completely new image. The castle... the castle had sown the seeds for him to generously water! And, then, it would just reap the fruits of his labor for itself.

"You see it now, don't you?" the archfiend hissed softly, scrutinizing the aftermath of their rather brief fight. "That lash of anger? That was the structure's attempt to seize your mind."

"Wait," Alucard raised his hands, lips pursed in reflection. "You're saying that everything my father has done – all the heinous atrocities, have been orchestrated by the castle?"

"Not all of them." The Forgotten One straightened his back and gave the younger vampire a meaningful glance. "Fury, disgust, rage. They all are standard human emotions. These walls did not conjure them from nothingness, mind you. It just amplified what he had fel-"

"Enough of these games!" Dracul interrupted the fiend, a frown knitting his brow. "Why are you helping us? Why are you helping _me_? What do you get out of this?!"

"Such hostility." The demon placed his hands on his hips. "Have I not offered you crucial information to help you on your quest?"

"Answer me, now."

"Let's just say, I have nothing to gain if the castle's influence consumes you. Puddles of oily matter overrunning your minions? It will happen to you, Gabriel, if you're not careful. The castle, to quote your Swallow, will stop at nothing to hinder your progress... and subdue your mind."

"Subdue my mind?"

"Eradicate. Overtake. Devour." The Forgotten One's tone turned somber. "Its hunger grows with each passing day, baying for blood, for death. You are the only thing which stands between it and the modern world. And now it wishes for the return of the true Lord, who had the led it to prosperity in the first place, so it could submerge the entire epoch into a war. A genocide which would steal millions of lives."

"It wouldn't dare." Dracul replied. "I am its Lord and Master! It obeys my commands!"

"Did it adhere to your will when you battled the blood fiend?" the archfiend added in a smug voice.

The elder vampire glanced at the floor, gathering his thoughts. He lost himself to reverie, unaware of the passage of time, until the Forgotten One's gruff voice reached his ears.

"As I thought. It has been using you and you had no idea."

"Is there a way to stop the castle's spread?" Gabriel asked quietly.

"None. You can only postpone the inevitable." The demon folded his arms. "Nothing is more powerful than its will – not even your love for your wife and son – and it will possess you in the end."

He shrugged. "You draw your last breath and it dies alongside you. Now, forsaking it without triggering your demise, is a different matter. The influence has entwined with your _soul_. It had formed an unbreakable bond, a prison which you would never escape. However, the Trumpet you seek may have the power to achieve this, yet, it will be severely underpowered in this realm. It will have only one charge."

"Wait, that means..."

"A choice must be made." The archfiend nodded. "Either you free yourself from the castle's influence, save this era from a shattering conflict, but sentence your Swallow to eternal pain, or you send your beloved to Heaven, lose yourself, and doom the outside world."

Heavy silence engulfed everyone present and only the distant howling of the wind challenged its reign. A roar of thunder clashed against the skies, announcing the arrival of a storm. Water poured down, hissing and spitting, as it lashed out at the crumbled section of the gallery. The icy tempest roused the elder vampire from his contemplation.

"No," he finally said. "I will not make this decision. I will find another way."

The Forgotten One paused and scoffed, not uttering a word. Without breaking his gaze with the vampire, he raised his clawed hand.

Dracul watched his every gesture warily, although, this time, he kept his weapons sheathed.

Violet specters danced through the air, quickly encircling a large slab of rose marble – a fragment of the fiend's inanimate shell. As they waltzed around the stone, its shape began to change. Sharp corners melted away, texture rupturing to reveal a soft, gel-like substance beneath. As the metamorphosis drew to a close, gently, the spirits winked out of existence, leaving a faint trace of glittering dust after them.

A basin stood in the place of the rock. Or, at least, something Gabriel could identify as a basin. It was misaligned, yet, the murky water inside whirled without spilling a single drop. It was encased in a spongy, soft material, twirled into the same curls and swirls he had seen etched onto the Forgotten One's armor. A large, reptilian beast – or, perhaps, simply a decoration – sat hunched on the top of the basin, as the air around it cracked with bursts of green and violet.

The vampires approached the gulf, eying the vortex inside with both curiosity and doubt.

"What is this?" Alucard tore his gaze away from the foggy depths.

"This is the Maelstrom," The Forgotten One said. "It will transport you to other dimensions."

"How does it function?" Dracul glanced at the armored demon.

"It's not a portal per se; it weaves its own realm by based on one's thoughts and memories."

"And how exactly will it help us, considering the Trumpet's pieces lie scattered across other domains?"

"That's the beauty of it. If it _wants_ to be found by you, Gabriel, when it _will_ locate you."

The elder observed the archfiend, mulling over his words. "If you betray us-"

"I am simply carrying out my portion of the deal and do not mean to deceive you." The Forgotten One said. "You wish to recover the Horn? Hold your breath and take a dip. The Maelstrom will take care of the rest."

The vampire let his gaze linger on the giant a bit longer – he knew much more than he was letting on. It could be a trap, destined to lock him away, but the former knight could not turn his back now. The choice... the information the demon had divulged. All burned in his mind, setting the remaining nerves aflame as well. One part had to be sacrificed to save the other? What sick game are _you_ playing now, Almight-

"Oh, and, Gabriel?" The Forgotten One's tone made him jerk. "Anger feeds the creature within these walls. Remember that."

"Why are you helping me, demon?" Confusion crept into Dracul's voice, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it. "You were the one who had craved the destruction of humankind. You had been the one to wield enough power to actually achieve that. And now, you're _helping _me to prevent that from happening. _Why?_ What are your motives, beast?"

A quiet laugh escaped the giant's mouth. "Let's just say... I'm investing into our future partnership. _Credocho traaromb. _Don't let it go to waste... _old friend_."


	5. Light of Heart

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, editing and proofreading this chapter took longer than expected. Also, this is where the fun (and perhaps, slightly confusing to you, dear readers, but I tried my best to explain) part starts.**

* * *

What a peculiar – yet unsettling – sensation.

Gabriel found himself walking at steady pace down a corrugated path, jagged from exact solid blocks of blackness. The Maelstrom's featureless world cloaked him in a shroud of white – the exact shade of Marie's angelic attire – creating a clashing contrast between it and the road. What hadn't been lost in the transitional world of the Maelstrom appeared bleached, devoid of any color. Only his and Alucard's forms retained their vibrancy in this otherwise muted world.

"Remarkable," Alucard murmured. "A realm without color. Doesn't have much to look at, does it?"

"Prepare yourselves," the echoing voice of the Forgotten One surged around them. "The Maelstrom has finished recreating the first portion of the stronghold."

"The strongho-" the elder tried inquiring, but his words were drowned out in a hellish clamor as the dimension started to shift.

As if it were wet sand molded by the joined forces of water and wind, so did cobblestone floors, marble pillars and wooden beams form, rising from the unembellished depths of this domain. The reconstruction of the foundation took only a few seconds, and soon enough the Maelstrom began shaping the various details with painstaking attention.

Dozens of torches illuminated the newly created interior with their soft light: it blurred itself into a warm flux at is crept along the ground. Speckles of dust danced in the sunlight, as it streamed through many great windows of the hallway. It appeared so serene... it was easy to forget a storm raged outside in the _real_ world.

Aside from the two vampires, the hall appeared desolate and silent, interrupted only by indistinct chanting and prayers.

Dracul looked around: images of saints and martyrs – some of which he did not recognize – adorned the walls, a mosaic of a crucifix was inlaid into the stone... A small sigh escaped his throat.

"The Brotherhood." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Indeed so," Alucard agreed, a note of mild annoyance present in his voice. "And by the looks of it – their main fortress. The one near Budapest."

"Marvelous. Why did the whirlpool put us here?"

The Forgotten One's guttural chuckle resonated off the walls. "Because the place has been knit together from your thoughts," he said. "It's an illusion - a recreation, inhabited by real humans."

"How can a semblance of what is past be populated by living, breathing people?" Gabriel's mouth twitched. "How can it be stored in my memory if I've never been to this citadel before?"

"The same way I can communicate with you without the _holy _knights noticing_._" The archfiend practically dripped with sarcasm, but, interestingly, he mocked not the vampire."In any case, the Maelstrom is an extraordinary artifact. You have never set foot in this place, that is true, but the Maelstrom spins its dimensions by recreating events that _could have _taken place in your life."

Dracul bit his lip. "Beast?"

"I'm listening." The archfiend responded immediately.

"About the Trumpet. What did you mean by 'if it wants, it would find me?' Is it sentient?"

"Expressing doubt, are we? How uncharacteristic of you." The demon gave a priggish laugh. "The Almighty's Mask comes to mind?"

"Just answer my question."

"Sentient? No. But Lucifer went to great lengths to keep it from Heaven's reach. He knew he couldn't take any risks and keep it locked away in Sheol – Hell and Heaven are both in a constant struggle for dominance - so he made it so it would never appear in one spot for long. And, as the Trumpet is celestial in nature, it is inadvertently drawn to a source of light in the current plane. Which is ours. In other words, it will only appear before one of pure heart."

"So, this is a fool's errand once again," Gabriel remarked sourly.

"What makes you say that, Father?" Trevor shifted his shoulders in a lighthearted manner. "On the contrary, I think it is more than possible."

The elder glowered back. "_'Pure of heart,' _Trevor. My own heart rotted away _centuries_ ago. There is nothing left to salvage."

"Not quite," the white-haired warrior smiled. "It may not be noticeable through your eyes, but to others... the change is unmistakable."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Father, your irises are steel gray." Alucard smirked.

* * *

The vampires ventured towards the faint whispers, the shuffling noise of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Not a single living soul, not a single warrior stood in their way – the stronghold might have appeared desolate and abandoned if not for the vague prayers that spilled through the air.

But Gabriel could not care less, even if the citadel had been swarming with Brotherhood soldiers: the Forgotten One's words could not leave his mind at peace.

_Pure of heart?_

The mythical fawn encased into a silver carapace stood before his eyes. Ah, Pan. The Silver Warrior. A personification of spring, of life. One of the last elder gods who had proudly sacrificed himself to help the former knight fulfill his destiny. To test the purity of his heart, only to witness it char and blacken into a husk he possessed now. Was it at all possible to purge, to cleanse it?

As they walked by dozens of hallways, serpentine corridors and alcoves, the steady chanting grew in strength – Dracul could already recognize a few spoken words of Latin. But before he could connect them into a coherent sentence, other voices joined the caterwaul, blurring the already obscure communion.

Guided by the chorus, the vampires soon stood before the grand oak gates, that no doubt led into the heart of the Brotherhood's compound. Thousands of heartbeats pounded against the elder's eardrums – the main chamber, unquestionably, housing every member of the Order, as they gathered in a ceremony.

"Light draws the Trumpet to this plane," Trevor uttered in a hushed voice. "That's what the demon had said?"

"The Brotherhood is both ignorant and corrupt," the elder murmured in answer. "Their 'light' has long dimmed out. Now only its shadows remain."

"Then we must show it _we_ are worthy of its attention. Father?"

"Yes?"

"You must promise me." A furrow crossed the younger vampire's forehead. "That you will not take anyone's life whilst out there. I fully understand your frustration, anger at their betrayal, but-"

"Anger and death feeds the creature resting inside the castle walls." Gabriel finished, mouth twitching into a straight line. "You need not worry. I am well past their childish antics – in my eyes, the Brotherhood had suffered enough."

A slight smile tugged at Alucard's lips. "Whenever you are ready."

* * *

Once the gates swung open on their groaning hinges, the vampires strode into the amphitheater, paying little mind to the surrounding members of the Brotherhood. After all, they were but pawns in this game of divine chess.

For a second, all chanting ceased, giving way to a startled silence, before the entirety of the Order thundered into a cacophony of shrill screams, cries and incomprehensible wails. The majority beat a hasty retreat, relinquishing their weapons and seeking succor behind the backs of the more tempered men. Ones blessed with bravery – or foolishness – bristled, unsheathing their swords and leveling them at the vampires. Agonized whispers of confusion deluged the audience.

"Is that..."

"How did he get past our enchantments?"

"The cardinal said this fortress was impenetrable!"

"Vile scum!" A familiar voice extinguished the murmurs as a knight donned from head to toe in an ornate golden platemail stepped forward, holding his swords aloft. Roland de Ronceval, the unfortunate paladin – the alleged Chosen of God – who had invoked the prayer of the Great Explosion all those years ago. "You dare show your pathetic hide he-"

"Calm yourself, Sir Roland." An elderly man dressed in a black mantle and wielding a staff raised his hand forcing the paladin to stop in his tracks. "The rest of you – stand your ground."

"Cardinal Volpe?" Alucard's eyes widened. "He's still alive?"

"He's a skilled alchemist," Dracul whispered back. "As well as the founder of the school of healing and clergy. No doubt, he has found a way to prolong his life, but not his youth."

"Roland is here." The white-haired warrior tensed. "Remember your promise, Father."

The elder nodded wistfully. "I remember."

"Your Eminence!" Roland nearly sputtered. "The fiend has presented himself to us! Why do you hesitate to strike him down? Just give the order!"

"My order is thus: do not attack him, Sir Roland." A hint of steel surfaced through the cardinal's voice. "That goes for the others, as well. I'll have no blood shed on this day."

"I-"The paladin inhaled sharply, eyes not leaving his supposed quarry. "A-as you wish." he finally stammered, and his curved scimitars slid back into their scabbards with a disappointed hiss.

The soldiers around them glanced at each other, and, one by one, followed the paladin's example, putting away their maces, swords and axes. Gabriel let out a fleeting sigh – so far, so good.

Volpe steeped the tips of his bony fingers together, deep-set gray eyes burrowing directly into the vampire's irises. Despite his apparent age, the Brotherhood leader's eyes brimmed with clarity and patience – something he had not expected to see from a man who had condemned thousands in order to defeat the Lords of Shadow and, later, Dracul himself.

"Welcome, Gabriel Belmont." Volpe allowed himself a weak smile. "I have been expecting you. As well as your son."

A faint murmur rustled through the ranks of the warriors, and even Roland arched an eyebrow over his milky-white left eye. Dracul, on the other hand, frowned.

"Haven't we been told he perished almost half-a-millennium ago?"

"...Succumbed to his wounds soon after the destruction of the Shadow Lords."

"Your Eminence." The paladin cleared his throat, barely contained hatred evident in his tone. "With all due respect, have we heard you correctly? Did you just address the monster we've been hunting down for _centuries_ by the name of our greatest heroes? The legendary progenitor of the Belmont clan?"

_What._

The cardinal's eyebrows drooped. "Indeed I have." He waved his hand at the ceiling of the chantry. "And by no mistake."

A colorful mosaic, inlaid with stained glass, stared back at Gabriel. Normally, it wouldn't phase him and he would disregard it after a moment's notice, but now, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Familiar faces of Zobek, Carmilla and Cornell – the Founders, understandably, surrounded themselves with brilliant halos – were illustrated as the Holy Trinity of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. However, in this representation they donned different names, the names of their angelic counterparts: Michael, Remielle and Cassiel. God's Visage, Clemency and Action.

In the center of this trinity, Gabriel's own image was inset, one of a holy knight, proudly carrying his signature weapon, the Vampire Killer whip.

Under the former knight's coat, the metal of his old weapon burned hot against his skin. His own gaze – hooded and pupil-less in the collage – had never felt so heavy. So deprecating.

"As you see," Volpe's voice blared into a muffle. "The one you knew only under the moniker of Dracul, the Dragon, was once one of us. A mortal man. A hero who had driven the shadows away, only to succumb to the darkness stored deep within our hearts. And the one standing beside him is none other than Trevor Belmont, his son."

"You don't deny that you no longer represent the images of light you believe in so blindly?" Alucard asked, clearly surprised.

"Not at all. We allowed ourselves to be poisoned by the venomous desire to eradicate your father from this earth, Trevor," the cardinal explained. "We had viewed it as our responsibility. We had allowed Gabriel to fall, justified our actions by telling ourselves – _this is for the greater good! Now, the Lords of Shadow and the Forgotten One will never threaten the land again! _We were foolish, and we paid the price with the blood of our comrades in full."

"You had sent Trevor after me." Gabriel finally found the strength to speak. "You had sent my own son to kill me."

Volpe looked away, wrinkles on his aged face appearing ever deeper. "When the time came, I, and other elders of the Order, divulged the truth Trevor had every right to know. We had told him who his father was. That is _all._ The young Belmont had set out to confront you on his own initiative."

Dracul glanced at his son – the boy stubbornly refused to make any eye contact, instead focusing his attention elsewhere. No, not now. There were far greater problems at hand.

Speechlessness enveloped everyone in the grand hall, hampered only by the uneven breaths of the soldiers around them. It didn't take long before one of the knights – wearing a commander's outfit – took a wide step forward.

"Your Illustriousness," he said hoarsely. "We had thought that this was all about us being the saviors and killing the beast. Who are we, if not the heroes described in the tales?"

"Yes, what are we fighting for?"a second voice called from the audience.

"My friends, my fellow members," the cardinal raised his hands into the air. "I'm sorry I lied to you about everything. About the real identity of our nemesis, about our goals and motives. There is no such thing as a pure heart. Everyone possesses a grain of darkness, of corruption. But it is our decision, in our strength to resist its claim, or embrace it."

"Or to ward it off," Gabriel added quietly. "Even the blackest of hearts is streaked with speckles of light."

"That is true, too." Volpe cracked a smile. "There was a reason we gave you that name, Gabriel. When we found you on our doorstep that fateful night. And you know why?"

The vampire bowed his head. "Because... every man has the power to repent." The words rolled off his tongue with unexpected aplomb.

"Verily. Just have _faith_."

The cardinal made his way towards the former knight, the sharpened end of his oak staff clattering against the stone floors. Old and feeble he might appear, but energy practically bubbled up in him. Was it really the same man who had sacrificed so many lives? And even after the sudden change of heart, why would others still follow him?

"My Liege," Roland moved after his leader, hands resting on the hilts of his scimitars.

Volpe jerked his head up, and the paladin froze, a grimace of hatred written on his scarred face.

"We have made poor decisions in our lives," the cardinal uttered as he approached the vampires. "But, all actions can be atoned for. And I intend on doing so. Now, give me your hand."

Gabriel paused, weighing his options. The old man had given the vampire no reason to be wary of him – moreso, the former knight felt _pleased, hopeful _at his actions – yet, he could not shed a strange sensation of unease.

Dracul outstretched his hand, muscles strained, and the cardinal closed his withered grip around it. His grasp was thin and papery, barely warm.

"This will help you."

Something sharp scratched against his skin. The elder startled and opened his grip. Several pieces of brass lay spread on his palm, faintly glittering in the torchlight.

"What... what are these?" He rattled the fragments, perplexed.

He raised his head, but only unsettling blankness met his eye. The cardinal, the soldiers, the citadel walls. All crumbled to dust, spread across the four winds, like a sand in a broken hourglass. As if, it had never been there in the first place, devoured by the timeless abyss. _Why?_ Why now? Was this a wicked trick?

The vortex opened its hungry maw.

* * *

"...Must I carry your limp form now?" a low voice rumbled in his ears.

"What in the abyss are you doing?"

"Helping him." Something blunt dug into his side. "I'd let him lounge around all he wanted, except we can't really spare the time."

Dracul let out a soft hiss – his head thrummed with an unfamiliar ache, a pain so lingering that it reverberated throughout his whole body, muscle and bone alike. It made his limbs numb, dull and senseless, a sensation he was used to, but, nevertheless, would like to avoid.

He forced his heavy eyelids open – he was once again in the ruined galleries of the castle, with its icy draft whistling through the gigantic gap in the wall. With its cold stone and crevices filled with darkness. With its undying whispers and pleas. For the first time in many centuries, Gabriel felt only raw disgust towards his 'home.'

"Argh..." he managed, shifting his body into a sitting position – he'd been lying on the ground? "What... is this?"

"A backlash." The archfiend hunched over him, his beady eyes staring into the vampire's. "The Maelstrom had never been used by humans before, so the aftermath can prove to be a little... unpredictable."

"Where's Trevor?"

"I'm here." The wisps of the younger vampire's white hair appeared in his sight. "I was stunned when the Maelstrom expelled us. I'm fine now, but you were unconscious for a while."

"H-how long exactly?" Gabriel rubbed his forehead and rose to his feet.

"Around thirty minutes."

"Did you get it?" The fiend watched him with a curious glint in his eyes. "The Trumpet?"

"No," Dracul muttered and gave the fragments clutched in his hand an exasperated glance. The only remembrance of the Maelstrom's domain. "Only these pieces. Volpe said 'they would help me.'"

"Did he, now?" the Forgotten One stroked his chin – or the spot where his chin _would _be. "That's amusing, considering you hold the fragments of the Celestial Trumpet in your grasp."

The elder arched his eyebrows. The Horn... truly? But it only showed itself to the pure-hearted... "So, it needs to be rebuilt?" He tried keeping his voice steady.

"It appears so, yes." The archfiend guffawed. "Ah, Lucifer, you never make things easy, do you?"

The elder frowned. "You know Satan?"

"I certainly have a history with your long-term opponent. Not a particularly pleasant one." The beast shrugged. "Either way, you acquired the first piece of the puzzle and proof that you, undeniably, are deemed worthy to wield it. You have the mouthpiece; only the pipe and the bell remain."

"Fiend..."

"Yes?"

"Back in the Maelstrom's realm." Gabriel winced – it was difficult to concentrate with the dull pain burrowing behind his eyes. "We met up with the Brotherhood and its leader – Cardinal Volpe. He... he had admitted the truth he had concealed for so long. And the soldiers... the paladin, it might appear that they were willing to forgive him, as well as me. How is it possible?"

"It's not." The archfiend replied solemnly. "The bloody history of your past cannot be erased that simply. Cardinal Volpe would pass away nine months after your conversation, and Roland de Ronceval would seize control over the Order's forces and proclaim himself as the Champion of God. We all know what happened afterward."

"So, there's no hope for the Brotherhood." The vampire sighed. "They would restore their honor, even if humanity's downfall was the cost."

"You cannot force someone to redeem himself." Alucard offered him a pensive smile. "They need to make their journey of atonement on their own."

Dracul peered at the brass shards scattered across his palm, a small smile twitching his lips.


	6. Prince's Pride

** Maict: Thank you so much for the kind words! Don't worry, Sypha will be present/making a cameo in the epilogue for this story. And guest reviews take up to three days to be seen by the public, yourself included - but I can see when as an email notification as soon as it is posted. User reviews are posted much quicker though.**

* * *

"This is a waste of time." Gabriel grumbled to himself, cringing.

"This is a precaution," the Forgotten One responded for the fourth time. "Understand – entering the Maelstrom in your current condition is an impetuous and foolish decision."

"Why do _you_ care about my condition?" the vampire rested his back against the slab of what once was a marble pillar. "You were the one to nearly turn me into a burnt crisp."

"Emphasis on _nearly_. I didn't. You're the one who's using the vortex's power at the moment. Domain crafting requires a clear, unclouded mind. Heed my advice and get some rest. While you still can."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"And here I imagined you would a least stop perceiving everything as a threat once you acquired the first piece of the Trumpet." The archfiend sighed. "The castle is forging an army to stop our progress, Gabriel. Our time of alleged peace is nearing its end. Best savor it." The Forgotten One rose shakily to his feet – his right shin was still missing a chunk of wiry tissue – and trudged through the ruins towards the eastern entrance of the galleries.

"Where are you heading?" Alucard inquired, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position beside the former knight.

"I will erect a protective barrier around our current position." The demon replied. "It will not stop the castle's progress, but it will certainly buy us enough time to conclude our business with the Trumpet."

"We have no idea for how long it will contain the creature," Dracul murmured, peering after the fiend. "The longer we dally here, the less time we will possess to fetch the other fragments."

"If choosing between sacrificing a bit more time, and making out of the Maelstrom alive, or knitting the dimension now, and becoming trapped inside of it, I would choose the former." The white-haired warrior clicked his tongue. "While you were blacked out, the Forgotten One elaborated more on the vortex."

"Befriending an enemy now?" The elder vampire scoffed and picked up a piece of shattered marble.

"Wouldn't be the first time, either. I struck a pact with _you_, of all people, Father, especially after everything you've done." Alucard presented him with a resolute stare. "Anyway, the fiend had told me that the castle's influence cannot spread into the Maelstrom. It simply cannot contaminate something made entirely out of your untainted memories."

"Yet, we cannot stay in its realm for too long, as evidenced by our previous plunge."

"Yes, as well as that, seeing as the castle is the one to grant you immortality..." Trevor trailed off and looked away.

Gabriel glanced at his son, twirling the stone in his bony fingers.

"The last encounter went smoothly enough," Alucard wrinkled his brow. "But, something tells me, our luck is about to run out."

"I will not allow anyone, or anything, to claim my life before my mission is completed." Dracul noted calmly and tossed the shard away. "I will see to it."

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

Marie fidgeted with the embroidered sleeve of her dress – even the noiseless burble of the current she was walking by could not calm her anxiety. When crossing a rickety bridge over the stream, she could not stay silent any longer.

"How are you feeling?" she spoke softly, addressing her loyal companion walking beside her.

"I'm fine, Marie." Her interlocutor replied, without even so glancing at her. "You needn't worry about my present condition."

"But what about the future? This-" she let her fingers brush against his cheek where the pestilent affliction had taken root. "Is not going to vanish. It's going to spread and fester sooner or later."

The man shifted his gaze onto her, a fond smile playing in the corner of his mouth. "I just need to last long enough for him to recover the Trumpet. Then, everything will come to an end at last."

Marie cast her eyes downwards, shoulders slumping in defeat. It was happening faster than anyone would have anticipated and she – damn it all! – could only sit and observe, without the right to interfere. _Again. _

"It's just..." she bit her lip. "I lost you once. I do not wish to lose you once more."

"I promise you," her companion reassured, his fingers curling around her wrist and relaxing her grip. "I will return. No damnation, no death will tear us apart ever again."

* * *

One plunge into the ooze-dripping depths, and the Maelstrom deftly began to sculpt the dimension, its ghostly fingers molding the stone and flesh akin to clay.

The gravid moon illuminated their path, its light softly caressing all the spires, all the rooftops of this gothic city, like a mother tends to her young. Warm pockets of air escaped the vents in the ground with a hiss. Unfamiliar music rumbled from the nearest open window. A low growl dribbled through the cold as a passing car whooshed past the vampires, fortunately, paying little attention to the undead.

Odd, but not unwelcome.

"Wygol." Alucard glanced after the sedan and quirked his eyebrow. "An interesting choice."

"I don't have the control over the whirlpool, Trevor. I believe, it chooses a domain at random." Dracul answered dismissively. "However, the city looks a bit... different from my last visit. More lucid."

Neon signboards and sparkling lampposts were the first thing to draw the elder vampire's attention. Last night – during Lucifer's second coming – when the streets wallowed in waste and rubble, shrouded with a thick blanket of blackness and hopelessness, legions of demons had forced people into hiding, spreading chaos and destruction whenever they went.

But, now, a distant bustle of men and women cheering reminded him that the human race is the most adaptive of all creatures: even centuries under his tyrannical rule could not crush their spirit. Then again, according to the scattered books in the Wygol library, Dracul had been seen no more than a legend, a fairytale parents used to keep their disobedient children in line.

"It's because the Maelstrom has sent us to the point when nothing threatened the stability of men." The younger vampire's mouth twitched.

"Prior Satan's return?"

"Perhaps, a few decades before that. See that excavation site? The castle's foundations are yet to be unearthed completely."

Dracul glanced at the spread out mining equipment across the road. "We still need to acquire the shards of the Horn. Any thoughts on the subject?"

"Well, the first part of your atonement has been made: you admitted your mistakes." Alucard stroked his hairless chin. "Now, I imagine, we need to carry out the second phase."

"Reconcile with the past."

"Yes. And only one item holds everything affiliated with your misdoings."

Gabriel's eyebrows lifted. "The travel book..."

"We need to get to the Throne Room as soon as possible." The white-haired warrior nodded solemnly. "If I am right, the Basilica – where you have fought Zobek – is yet to be constructed. That means the book may still be in the secret dorm behind your throne."

The elder vampire borrowed a minute to ponder over the statement. "Then let us not waste time." He agreed yet – unbeknownst to Alucard – without enthusiasm. The tome manifested as the physical representation of his memories – would destroying it render him cloistered within the boundaries of forgetfulness? Unhappy his past may be, but to have it, once again, consigned to oblivion appeared unbearable to him.

Lose sight of your own past and be dismissed from the conscious mind of others... that was the most gruesome fate of all. Some manage to die a hero, others ascend as a villain. But not to be acknowledged at all? Could it have happened to the Forgotten One? Clearly, that wasn't his name, if he even possessed one. The demon must have deserved his unflattering alias for a reason.

"That reason," the archfiend's voice boomed around them, making the elder lose footing for a moment. "Is not yours to know."

"You can read my thoughts?" Dracul growled in response.

"How ostentatiously accurate of you, my former nemesis." The Forgotten One chuckled. "However, I possess this ability even in the conscious realm. As well as soul clairvoyance. Glancing through it. And yours is _still_ highly unusual."

Well, isn't that surprising. "Then care to answer my earlier 'question'? What's your name? If you have one."

"You can call me Ikay."

"_Ikay?_ That's your true name?"

The demon guffawed. "My true name, in your human dialect, is thirty eight syllables long. Ikay is just two of them. But if you convince me, I can voice my full na-"

"Maybe later." Dracul said hastily. "We have more important things to take care of first."

"Fine by me." The Fo- Ikay's voice began to fade. "I'll leave you to your quest of book burning then."

* * *

The belfry's giant occupant tolled eleven times when the vampires finally reached their destination in the heart of the city. The area had been beleaguered by a fence and barbwire, but it proved to be a minor inconvenience for them and their smog forms.

Getting to the decrepit ruins of the Throne Room proved to be a hassle, even for the creatures of the night. Smartly-dressed citizens, simple commoners and ragged vagabonds, all scurried along their ways, busy with the every-day matters, and unknowingly, they all obscured the path to their goal. Sneaking past them would have been so much quicker and less stressful – the people were more observant than the dim-witted brutes of Satan after all – under the guise of a rat, but Alucard, no matter how hard he tried, could not assume the form of a rodent. And, for Dracul, leaving his progeny behind would be frivolous and disrespectful.

Of course, flight was still an option, but the younger vampire advised against it, as two clouds of bats would attract unnecessary attention – the city's inhabitants were superstitious enough. Alucard even explained that the overwhelming majority of the populace believed into the existence of vampires, even if they preferred not to talk about it. Amusing, knowing the same people blindly denied the fact the Prince of Darkness was real, too.

As the pair stood near the collapsed section of the balcony – the flashback of the Brotherhood's siege titan stood in the elder's mind – Dracul couldn't help but glance over the stirring city.

If asked a day before Satan's second coming, when he had holed up himself in one of the town's many churches, burdened by immortality, he would have said that redemption couldn't have been achieved. A monster, who stopped behaving like one, is still a monster. And the city, built on the remnants of his castle, reflected his statement wholeheartedly. Grimy and cloaked in gloom, like the deepest bowels of his being.

Now, the vivid colors and the bustle, coupled with the first shard of the Celestial Trumpet hidden under his coat, made him reconsider his earlier opinion. He still had time to find a way to save both his beloved and mankind. Humanity, despite all its flaws and past mistakes, would live on.

And, despite their hurry, a certain question bloomed in the elder vampire's mind.

"Trevor." He said, eyes not leaving the picturesque cityscape. "Had Volpe told me the truth about you? That the Brotherhood had nothing to do with your crusade against me?"

Alucard hesitated with his answer. "Yes. That is true." A brief wrinkle crossed his brow. "I felt... as if it was my obligation to destroy you. Because of Mother, and her premature death at your hands."

"I seek neither forgiveness, nor sympathy for this heinous deed, yet, I feel the need to tell you that... I had not done so voluntarily. You know me well enough by now to understand; I would never allow any harm to come to Marie, let alone hurt her myself."

"I do realize that," Alucard nodded. "Still, why did you do it? Blackmail? Brainwashing?"

"The latter. The deceased Lord of the Dead had used a hellish artifact to string my limbs up. Use me as a puppet for his own goals." Gabriel pursed his lips. "And to set his plan in motion, I needed, as he had so eloquently stated, a nudge. Well, at least now you know why he needed to die."

"Indeed so. From the years I had spent spying on both Zobek and his elusive Lieutenant, I gathered they were not the most pleasant lot. What was that artifact?"

"It bears the name of the Devil. His Mask. A butchered and drenched in malicious intents copy of the God's Visage. Luckily enough, I hadn't seen it surface for the last several centuries. But enough dwelling on the past. Better concentrate on the present."

"It's okay." The Wolf said, smirking softly. "Even the wisest of us makes mistakes."

"But my weakness had robbed Marie of her life." The former knight sighed.

"She has found a way to reunite with us. You simply cannot underestimate her determination." Alucard's words rang of sincerity, yet they were poisoned with cleverly hidden envy. Trevor's own loving wife – a redhead by the name of Sypha who had perished on the same night as the Brotherhood's champion – could not find them as Marie did.

Gabriel's voice cracked. "I-I am well aware of my part played in your Sypha's demise. And I wish to make amends for that. I cannot offer anything substantial... but, would you accept my apology?"

Trevor's golden-hued eyes widened. "I- What? Um, yes, thank you." A slight smile quirked his blackened lips. "That's certainly a start."

A soft wrinkle webbed the corners of the elder's eyes as he grinned in response.

* * *

The interior of the crumbled antechamber appeared exactly as he remembered, save for a few new gaps in the floor and curtains of lacy spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling. The huge battering ram the Order had utilized to break through the sealed doors of the Throne Room uselessly accumulated layers of dust, its purpose served. The siege machine had not drawn the attention of the vampires, but a hole neatly cut into the ornamented door, large enough for a slim human to fit through.

The men glanced at each other and Alucard rested his hand against the rough surface of Crissaegrim's hilt. Dracul, on the other hand, refrained from drawing any weapons – he preferred not to spill any blood and nourish the only thing he craved to stay away from. Even if that meant fueling his own being. A vampire lived off the existence of others, killing and butchering in order to survive. He was no exception.

Once they crossed the bottomless gorges and slunk into the ruins of the Throne Room in the same fashion as the unknown visitor, Alucard began to lead the way. Serene calmness enveloped the grand chamber, decades worth of dirt were left untouched... clearly, whoever had managed to slip into the heart of the castle was a professional. Or, simply speaking, inhuman. Warily, they stalked forward.

However, upon reaching the secluded alcove in which the book had been sealed shut, an unpleasant surprise awaited the elder vampire.

"It's gone?" Gabriel's voice went hoarse against his will. "That's impossible; the tome is enchanted to appear only to me!"

"Only to your bloodline." Alucard noted behind his back. "But what's odd in itself, why would anyone desi- What the _hell_?"

The elder whirled on his heels only to witness the younger vampire kneel in front of a body, dressed in what seemed light-absorbing plate. Rigor mortis did not lay its ghastly fingers on it as of yet and an improvised tombstone – fashioned from a piece of marble – had indicated that a small party had lost one of its comrades here. A cross emblazoned onto the chest piece of the fallen warrior left no doubt about his affiliation.

Dracul glanced further – two dozen of disfigured lesser vampires littered the hallway to the outdoors, their grisly faces staring into nothingness. Some were disemboweled across the abdomen, others had multiple gunshots... but, one leaning against the farthest wall, had ragged wounds spread all over its body.

Bloody lacerations... only inflicted by a whip or a spiked chain.

* * *

"Now that would explain how they were able to track down the tome," Gabriel bolted down the ruined walkway connecting the Throne Room and the southern wing of the castle, paying little attention to his surroundings. "Only myself and my lineage can skim through its contents, is that correct?"

"Yes." Alucard – being a bit taller – effortlessly kept up with his pace. "That's how I analyzed its past contents while you slept."

The elder nodded. "So a Belmont is trekking through the remnants of the castle." His voice dropped to a hollow whisper. "The question is: why does he or she want to do with the source of my memories."

"I guess we will find out soon enough." Trevor hummed as he stepped over another mutilated vampire's corpse. "Just follow the bodies."

* * *

Their sojourn within the crumbled walls had been a brief one and, far sooner than neither of the vampires had anticipated, they emerged back into the streets of Wygol. Or rather into the excavation site, built over the remaining parts of the castle's once grand facade. Several voices echoed soundly throughout the courtyard, allowing for Dracul to pinpoint their source. However, whatever words they uttered were indecipherable as of now.

The prospect of meeting another Belmont had left a surge of conflicting emotions within his mind and a sour aftertaste in his mouth. The last survivor of the bloodline – Victor – he met back in the _real _city, had sacrificed his own life to allow for Gabriel to proceed with his quest. Did he have to die? Did the family tree deserved to be cut down after so many generations? Or, just perhaps, there was a way to save Victor... lure out the second acolyte in some other way? What past is past, Gabriel knew it far better than anyone else, but he couldn't help but dwell, imagine alternative paths and scenarios where the last Belmont would have lived. These ruminations dulled out the pain his guilt had wrought.

"...Oh, by Christ, what are even going to say to Nicolas' wife?" A high-pitched breath interrupted his thoughts.

"We'll tell her the truth," a heavily accented feminine tone reached out for Dracul's ears. "Nicolas saved us. He died a hero, and let us cherish the memory of him as one, forever. Without him, we would not have made out of that hellish place alive."

"I trust his sacrifice was not in vain," a low gruff voice followed. "Did you find everything you needed, Eve?"

"More or less." The woman – Eve? – seemed distraught. "It's just... too much to take in, all at the same time. Ugh, let's just get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

An unfamiliar gentle laughter. "Oh, you're certainly not the only one."

"Although one must admit – slaying vampires is fun."

"You've a very warped definition of 'fun', Rupert. One of us has lost their life because of them!"

"On the other hand, fewer monstrosities stalk the night now. To the HQ. We will hunt again when the moon is bright."

Once the shuffle of their footsteps retired, Gabriel allowed himself to glance around the weather-eaten corner. There it was! The ancient tome bound in crimson leather was in the party's possession. Held by the woman in the lead of the group!

"Do you see it?" Alucard's lips moved, yet barely a whisper escaped.

"Yes," Dracul gave a brief nod. "The woman, she has it. Do you know her?"

* * *

"Wait." Eve abruptly stopped in her tracks, iron-bound heels digging deep into the soft soil. "Two vampires, right behind us." She jerked her head. "Spread out; perhaps they have friends nearby."

* * *

The white-haired warrior shook his head. "No, I did not tangle myself with the business of the Brotherhood. But, if she's a Belmont, a non-violent confrontation can be achieved. Perhaps, we could tail her group and retrieve the book without arousing hostility?"

"One thing is stopping me. We already wasted a couple of hours in this realm and we're lucky the Maelstrom had not expelled us already. Time is working against us and drastic measures require an extraordinary decision." The elder wrinkled his nose. "If the woman does not surrender the tome voluntarily, we'll have to take it by forc-"

A shrill whistle, and a bejeweled dagger bluntly embedded itself into the stone a few inches away from Dracul's face. He watched it for a few seconds, stunned, before the woman's imperious voice reached out for his ears.

"Come out, spawns of darkness!" shouted Eve. "You're surrounded!"

"Funny how they gave us an opportunity to surrender." Alucard said, mouth curling into a small smile. "What did we do to deserve this honor?"

"This is perfect!" Dracul beamed, relieved immensely. "Now we can talk."

Both of the vampires readily emerged from their little hideout, positioning themselves in the front of the group of five. Their hearts skipped a beat in perfect unison, their breaths froze in their throats at one fell swoop... without a doubt, these bounty hunters knew who he was.

"Yes." He uttered, giving their leader – Eve – a crooked smile. "Now we can talk."


	7. God's Arrogance

**A/N: Sorry for the delay; I spent quite some time fleshing out the events in this chapter and getting distracted by LoS roleplaying. And, yesss, I've found a neat article on how correctly punctuate dialogue! Reminds me to go back and fix all the eye-watering mistakes and typos in my previous chapters. And, yes, this is the first chapter to incorporate Alucard's POV, as well as an OC galore. **

* * *

"Just talk!" Dracul's smile vanished and he raised his hands in negotiation. "I do not wish to fight you or your companions."

The party's leader was... imposing to say the least. Tall – oh, she seemed to be even taller than the vampire himself! – dressed in a crimson leather jacket, trimmed with silver and a pair of jet-black pants with its calves neatly tucked into iron-bound boots. Cheekbone-long dark hair framed face, and brown eyes flashed dangerously from under the fringe. From looks alone, Gabriel could safely say that she was, indeed, related to him, even if sands of time and life had rendered that connection opaque.

And, by God, how she reminded him of Marie!

"So, the tale is true. What do you want to talk about?" Eve inquired, an eerily calm mien evident on her face. She did not seem particularly surprised by his forthcoming, unlike her bemused friends.

"Eve-!" One of the men exclaimed, aghast. "It's the Dragon! And the Wolf! They're real! The ones who-"

"I know very well just who they are," the woman retorted. "I don't require a history lesson, Linus."

Beside Eve, a giant of a man huffed dubiously. "Dracul is a dead legend. What makes you think it's not some bloodsucker masqueraded as him? To throw us off guard?" The engraved rifle in his hands clicked. "He must be the one who had lured Nicolas to his death!"

"Impossible," said the mysterious hooded man in the back. "No one would dare to impersonate the Prince." He stiffened. "Eve, can you ask the bruiser to lower the weapon? We know nothing for certain yet!"

"Do as he asks, Hammer. Nicolas is dead and he's immortal. There's nothing we can do."

"I thought, the Dragon was... well, a personification of rage and hate." A woman with wheat-colored hair denoted cautiously. "But he... he appears so unruffled. And that, like all vampires, he had crimson eyes, not grayish-blue."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your thrilling discussion about me." Gabriel took a few steps forward. "But I sincerely do not possess the time needed for this. But, I can assure you all, I am quite real."

Eve mimicked his posture. "Okay, we'll hear out your piece, if you answer one question."

"What is it?" the vampire questioned in a genuinely amiable tone.

"Do you still command the vile spawn we fought off the ruins?" A hissing undertone surfaced through the woman's otherwise dispassionate voice. "You know what I'm talking about. You saw the aftermath and... and what fate befell Nicolas. I'm sure about this."

"No. I'm sorry about your fallen brother."

"Yeah." Eve clicked her tongue, briefly casting her eyes downward. "But how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"He is." Alucard's expression mellowed. "You can believe me. We've a common enemy, us and you."

"The White Wolf has protected our city for centuries..." Eve hesitated. "Fine. Let's hear it."

"Long story short," Gabriel said, "I'm rebelling. And we need the book you're carrying to fulfill our next objective."

"I kinda figured it was yours." Eve hummed and weighed the hefty tome in her hands. "My name's Eve, by the way. And here are Linus, Bogomir 'the Hammer', his sister Olga"- the blonde nodded –"and Rupert"- the hooded man in the back shuffled uncomfortably (Gabriel narrowed his eyes: the man's mannerisms seemed awfully familiar) - "Together we call ourselves the Innocent Devils, an elite group of hunters against the supernatural."

"Well, you already know me." The elder cracked a smirk. "Pleased to meet pragmatic folk at last."

"Pragmatic? Heh, that's because I did not attack you on sight?" She handed the tome to its owner.

"Partly." Dracul smiled and accepted the offering. "You're a Belmont, are you not?"

Eve's hand traveled to the iron crucifix strapped to her hip and she let out a chortle. "You're quite correct in this regard. Current Commander of Brotherhood of Light, Eve Belmont." She curtsied. "An honor to meet the ones who begat this bloodline."

"You know us?" Alucard's golden eyes widened a little.

"Of course," Eve acknowledged. "Gabriel and his son, Trevor Belmont. Or, how you're known amongst the populace"- she bent her fingers -"the Prince and the Heir of Darkness. But, amongst ourselves, you are recognized as the progenitors."

"Why did you take the book?" the elder asked with genuine curiosity, putting the volume away.

"Ain't gonna lie," Eve responded after a pause. "I thought your memories might help me deal with a nuisance that has been plaguing our Order for years now. A nuisance? That's funny..." She sighed. "A hellish demon is tormenting mankind and we don't know how to defeat him."

"A demon?"

"Yeah, he calls himself Azazel."

Dracul folded his arms. "Azazel? As in one of the angels who was banished from Heaven together with Lucifer?"

"Most likely. Now he's a vile fiend who revels in pain and suffering he inflicts." Eve's voice turned raw. "Slimy bastard."

"Indeed," added Olga. "We've lost so many to that monster."

"Don't fret." Hammer rested his gauntlet-clad hand on his sister's shoulder. "We'll get that beast sooner or later."

"Father." Alucard tapped the elder vampire on the shoulder, drawing his attention. "You know how to deal with greater demons. Satan, the Forgotten One, Abaddon... We must help her."

"Time is of the essence," Dracul hissed in response. "And we don't have what is takes!"

The white-haired warrior simply raised an eyebrow and smirked softly. Curses. Gabriel grimaced.

"Fine!" He finally snapped, albeit without malice. "We will help you."

The corner of Eve's lips quirked. "Just like that? Without anything in return?" She chuckled. "Thanks."

"I take great pleasure in bringing former angels to justice." The elder vampire shrugged and smiled in return.

"Well, you certainly will have an opportunity to prove that but now- duck!" The commander screamed, as a translucent wave of green fire washed over them all.

The infernal heat brushed against Gabriel's back, making him wince. Normally, it would not perturb him – the Dragon feared nothing he could not command and fire was his protege – but these flames reeked of Hell itself. As impious as the spellcaster behind them, no doubt.

Several blazing comets ripped around them, causing the air to diffract from the sheer intensity. The heat inflamed the very oxygen in their lungs and whilst neither of the vampires could suffocate, the same couldn't be said about the human companions. Someone out there had decided to turn everyone – beside the Prince, himself - locked inside the airless pocket into a crisp.

And it would have succeeded, if not for quick thinking. Dracul whirled on his heels, fingers curling around the hilt of his bound blade. Its empty chill sang its hollow symphony as it battled the horrid inferno. The blizzard spawned by the weapon chased the fires away, freeing the group from their fiery shackles and leaving a charred circle in the soil.

It took everyone a few moments to catch their breaths.

"Everyone alright?" The elder looked over group in concern.

Muffled noises of approval greeted his ears.

Eve paused to draw breath, her face twisting into a snarl. "Azazel and his tricks. He's here." She stepped out of the circle, combat cross ready. "Dammit, angel, come and face us directly!"

"I'm not exactly hiding, insufferable little Belmont." A chattering noise, only distinctly resembling human speech, echoed above them.

A goat-like creature was hunched down on the ruined archway some distance away from the group. The demon had a lean humanoid body, yet a tattered robe draped around his form concealed many of his features. He could not boast of the same physical stature as any other of his ilk Dracul had vanquished: his limbs were scrawny at best, with much too thick torso and neck. His arms were split at the elbow into two, four heavy horns crowned his elongated equine head with one eye lime-green with a deformed pupil and the other – covered in a milky-white cataract.

The fiend jumped down from his perch – the companions behind the vampire's back tensed – and took several steps in their direction. Again, unlike other greater demons, Azazel – and this was him – appeared only a few inches taller than the former knight. His mismatched eyes lingered on Gabriel's face a bit longer than the rest of the group.

"Bah!" The demon chirped up, seemingly amused. "Why, isn't this the nemesis of my Master, the self-proclaimed usurper of his throne here on Earth! Gabriel, was it not? My, our Lord had such grand plans for you."

"Save your breath, Azazel," the elder growled through clenched teeth. "Your pitiful 'master' rots in Hell as we speak."

"Ah, but I had addressed him in a past tense for a reason," Azazel giggled. "I am well aware of that Lucifer will not be able to bind, or defeat you. He's much too stubborn, bull-headed to realize that. He's blinded by the humiliation you've put him through all those years ago. He honestly had expected to break you and how! By using your son's body in a brawl against you?"

Gabriel's eyebrows rose – how could the demon know of something what would happen in the _future_ from now?

"Lucifer's era of rule had come to an end," the beast continued, smirking at his surprise. "He might be the King of Hell, but his kingdom here of earth had been razed to the ground, thanks to you. Ha, no, Satan will not be able to enslave you, no matter how much he desires this." Azazel's toothy smile stretched even wider. "But I will."

"You can try." Gabriel leaned forward, digging the tip of his sword into the soil.

"Oh, I can. And I will," the demon replied. "And once it is all said and done, I will make you recover the last piece of the Horn. It breaks any bond, remember? So, I will shatter mine."

"What do you know about the Horn?!" the vampire demanded angrily. Immediately, he felt a disheartening backlash of the castle's influence and willed himself to get hold of himself.

"Oh, you mean this?" Azazel opened one of his skeletal palms – a single piece of brass, glimmering in the sharp moonlight, lay in the center of it. "Just a part of the much larger trinket I procured over the years." The demon guffawed and the fragment disappeared between the folds of his frayed cloak. "You want it? Come, follow me. Defeat me, if you can." The former angel let out a shrill laughter and skipped away from the party, heading deeper into the holds of the crumbled castle.

Dracul ground his teeth together; he would have dashed after the demon straight away, but a heavy hand, coupled with a yelling _wait!,_ phased him in time. Just as he lost Azazel's trail, the earth where the fiend stepped on, quaked. Acidic substance filled the newly created rift, forming slimy puddles which ate away everything they came into contact with. The elder, luckily, was fast enough to leap backwards and avoid the noxious compound.

He turned around, fully expecting for Alucard to be standing behind him, but instead met with the eyes of the hooded man, one of Eve's brethren. Dracul frowned, but Rupert – was that the stranger's name? – remained adamant, his hand resting on the vampire's shoulder. Verily, the soldier was almost a head shorter than him, but his perseverance was admi- Wait. Humans could not possess tangerine-hued eyes! Tangerine? A memory clicked in his brain.

"Krait?!" He nearly recoiled.

The man startled a little at the exclamation, but quickly composed himself. He gave an embarrassed shrug and pulled his hood down to reveal a similarly pallid face, a short crewcut and irises of warm orange. A child of night. Moreover, a child of night he _himself_ had created!

Dracul stared back, wide-eyed. "But... How? Why-"

"The demon's arrival, no doubt, attracted a whole lot of attention." Linus looked over his shoulder at the nearest apartment building. "We need to get off the streets before the riot police comes to investigate."

"Linus' right. Gabriel, no offense, but any reunions will have to wait till later." Eve tapped Rupert... Krait on the arm. "We can't let Azazel escape. Not again."

"I will explain everything once we're out of sight," the youngest of the three vampires added. "Eve!"

"Working on it!" The commander swung her crucifix, freeing the spiked chain hidden inside. The knob affixed itself to one of sconces above the acidic pool. Moments, and she was nimbly climbing onto the archway where Azazel had lounged. Underneath her feet, the matter roared and bubbled, slowly devouring any stone or concrete it came across.

"Dammit." Her voice reached out for them. "I would bring the entire structure down – it would create a bridge, or a gap for us to cross the hazard - but I don't have any explosives with me. Hammer?"

"You won't need explosives." Gabriel called her out. His veiled in flames gauntlets glimmered into existence, and he gathered a sphere of pure chaos energy into his palm. "Just tell me where to aim."

"Hm." Eve gave the a structure she was standing on a careful look. "We need to dismantle it in a such a way to cover the affected area. Even so, after we do this," she jumped off the series of beams – her athletic nature reminded him of Claudia. "We need to cross it _fast_ – you all see what the slime does to stone."

Dracul nodded. An explanation was in order – and he would be sure to reap it – but he had to sort out his priorities; the tale on how one of his most trusted lieutenants survived the Great Explosion _and_ ended up with the Brotherhood and the Belmonts could wait.

* * *

Once the path was clear and both the Innocent Devils and the vampires entered the threadbare vaults, trudging warily through the desolate halls and following the faint spectral trail left by the demon, the white-haired warrior allowed himself to take a closer look at the group, the remnants of the once glorious Brotherhood of Light.

Alucard shifted his gaze from the commander of the Brotherhood to the roguish vampire. How odd. He wasn't entirely sure what to think about them. A Belmont, an avid monster hunter, befriending a creature of the night? A vampire once under his father's tyrannical rule? Ludicrous. And yet, Eve seemed at complete ease around her cursed friend. Perhaps... No, the woman certainly brimmed with strength and life. She couldn't be undead.

However, Alucard could see her reasons. Unlike those he had slain during his crusade against his father, this vampire lacked the same mad, bloodthirsty glint in his eyes. No hatred, no malice. Quite the opposite, Krait conveyed an impression to have subdued his bestial nature, or just had it buried deep beneath his skin. Deep enough to hide from its pain.

"I thought I had memorized the entire castle and its inhabitants..." Alucard uttered slowly, "but I don't recall your face. Who exactly are you?"

"I am one of your father's elite warriors. Or was, to be exact." Krait smiled faintly. "Knaves of Darkness, he'd call us. We reigned while... you were _away_."

Away rebelling? Wallowing in self-pity? Unable to come to terms with his new life? "_We?_" The white-haired scion frowned. "There are more?"

"Indeed." The other vampire nodded. "Ours was a trio." He paused and then stammered. "Oh. Ah, greetings, my Prince. It's good to finally see you in person."

Alucard looked over his shoulder to see his father catch up with them, arms folded across his chest. "I believe you owe me an explanation, Krait."

"I believe I can offer you one," Eve beside them hummed. "After you had disappeared, and the forces of darkness slowly began to die out, Krait sought the remnants of the Brotherhood and pledged his unlife to the Belmont clan. He's been our adviser ever since and his knowledge of vampires proved invaluable."

"To be frank, I had dreaded the moment of our imminent rendezvous," the Knave spoke, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I remember how you punished those guilty of disloyalty and betrayal, my Liege. But when you said you were _defying_ the creatures you've commanded for so long-"

"Pay no mind to it." Dracul glanced at the non-existent ceiling of the vaults. "I have no interest in disciplining you. I'm on an important assignment and can't let such trifles bother me. Not that they do." He cracked a smile. "You had always been the most kindhearted of the Knaves.

"T-Thank you." The rogue's shoulders slumped. "May I ask what business are you attending to?"

"Yes, let's hear it." Eve leaned forward, her dark eyes alert. "What's so special about some brass?"

Alucard exchanged a bewildered look with his father. They didn't know? Then how did Azazel managed to pry open the secret of the Horn? And how had he managed to procure a piece in the first place?

"Because, and I'm sure you noticed," the woman continued. "Azazel is leading us into a trap."

"That piece is crucial for our success. It's a part of a grand set and I seek to reconstruct the artifact," Dracul returned. "He wants to fight us on his own terms, then so be it. That won't preserve his hide." His gaze darkened. "If I were in your shoes, I'd send your friends home."

"Afraid they'll get in your way?" Eve's eyebrow quirked. "My friends are more than capable-"

"No." Was the solemn answer. "I just don't want to witness the demon use them against us. And they have the power."

Alucard pressed his lips together – it wasn't hard to guess which incident did Dracul just reference. Fortunately, Eve and her companions remained blissfully ignorant of the future events to transpire.

The commander rewarded the elder with a steadfast stare. After some seconds, she leaned in and whispered something into Krait's ear. The youngest vampire's amber eyes darted towards his sire and he gave the woman a determined nod. Another question and an another brief bow of the head.

"Okay." Eve straightened her back. "Ru- _Krait_ says that the legends about you are not exaggerated. That you, indeed, are as powerful as scribes described you in the books. And you know what? I believe him." Her lips twitched into a smirk.

"I saved your life back there," Gabriel denoted, simpering meekly. "I thought that deed would have proven my worth as a soldier."

"And then your own kin saved yours," the commander stated hotly.

"And then my own kin saved mine. By the way, thank you for that, _Rupert_."

"Can you truly turn into a dragon? Or is it just gossip?"

Silence enveloped the scene as the Dragon turned to give his distant relative a dour look. Was she serious...? Trevor masqueraded his barking laugh as a cough, netting himself an awry glance from his elder.

"Hey, just probing. Not every day you meet up with your allegedly dead ancestor who's a vampire and a dragon." Eve shrugged, insulted. "Roar! Expect him to terrorize and ravage the land, but discover he's a nice guy underneath all that skin. Preposterous."

* * *

It took around five minutes for Eve to coax the Innocent Devils into leaving her with the oldest members of her clan. Dracul did not dissuade her: he knew well enough how stoic and determined the members of his bloodline can be. If Eve desired to wreck holy vengeance upon the demon, she would have it no other way.

Idly, he listened to what she had to say. That she couldn't risk their lives in the upcoming battle as her earlier mistake had cost Nicolas his. The party fell quiet at the mere mention of the name, paying their respects to their fallen brother, before wishing their leader good fortune.

"Luck has a habit of running out." Eve chuckled mirthlessly. "Backtrack to the Throne Room and recover his body, okay? It should be clear by now and he needs to be given a proper burial." Her hand closed around her combat crucifix. "As for me, I've got a demon to slay."

"It is a miracle how the Maelstrom did not oust us yet," Gabriel said quietly, eying the company from afar. "How much time do you think we have, Trevor?"

"I don't know," the white-haired warrior responded. "Perhaps, it's tracking our movements and progress and dares not to cast us out before we recover the second piece?"

"I certainly hope so-"

"Gabriel?" The Forgotten One's low rumbling voice resonated through his skull and he cringed. "Have you gotten the next fragment of the Trumpet?"

"Speak of an archfiend," the vampire mumbled. "Not yet, but we're close. What's the matter?"

"The castle has began its advance and is headed towards our location. I can maintain this domain in its original state for some time and the barrier will deflect the brunt of the initial onslaught, but you must hurry."

"Understood." Dracul nodded at the approaching woman. "We must make haste if we are to defeat Azazel."

"Make a beeline to him?" Eve cocked her head to the side.

"If you prefer that terminology, yes."

The commander let on a smirk and clicked the heels of her shoes. "You needn't worry about me. Your own Cyclone boots may be old, but they get the job done." Her boots flared with crimson light as their power propelled the woman forward at incredible speed, leaving a distinct scent of sulfur behind.

The elder could not hold back a smile.

* * *

The Mirror of Fate chamber.

He knew not why he kept referencing it thus – the alcove lacked its eponymous item, the mystical mirror capable of showing one's true destiny. Shattered by the castle's collapse and pulverized by the Great Explosion, its remains became Dracul's symbol of unyielding sorrow. The accursed thing had been one of the reasons behind Marie's death, the room in which it had been inlaid had become Trevor's tomb...

And this was the place where Azazel had chosen to face them.

Indeed, as the trio entered the circular chamber, rimmed by the circumference with statues of angelic warriors, they saw the shrouded fiend stroke the edges of the stone casket in the center in a slow, almost loving, motion. With the corner of his eye Dracul could see Alucard shudder.

"Finally, you're here." Azazel intoned without turning around. "I was beginning to think you got lost in your own fortress, Gabriel." He glanced over his shoulder and his fleshless lips quirked into a fleeting smile. "Oh, I see you brought the girl with you. Guess, you hadn't learned your lesson, eh, Prince of Darkness? Marie, Claudia, Laura... how many more need to perish before you understand?"

"Return the piece, Azazel," the elder vampire forced through clenched teeth.

The fiend clasped all of his bony hands together. "Sadly, this cannot be done. Being Satan's lapdog for an another eternity isn't a seductive prospect for me. But the King had bound me to his will. Such impudence and injustice, I tell you." His colorless tongue darted out to moisten the flesh around his nose. "Both parties have something the other side desires. Would you cherish a thought of trading yours?"

Dracul's claws dug deep into his palms – deep enough to draw blood – as he glared back at the equine-like demon. Soon, he would invoke his eldritch whip and banish this thi-

"Your silence is the answer I expected," said Azazel, "how disappointing. Well, then I'll _force_ you to give it to me."

He clicked his fingers and a strange thin object materialized in his hand. It was gray in color, notched from the multitude of cracks and chinks... and awfully familiar at that. Breath caught up in Gabriel's throat and, despite his immense willpower, he took a small step backwards. Both Trevor and Eve looked back at him, eyes wide and distressed.

The demon flexed the object, a toothy smile playing in the corners of his mouth. "Good to see, you still remember this particular item. The Devil Mask. Just how many summers had passed since the day it graced your face? Too many to count." He let out a rattling laugh.

Azazel's visage suddenly bubbled and changed, melting like wax near a flame. His curved horns faded, split arms fused into one and his ragged clothing transformed into an enameled red armor. In just mere seconds, instead of a demon, a human being stood in his place, one with ashen brown hair, eyes of sky blue and the fiendish mask pressed against his face.

That moment Dracul realized that he was staring at _himself_. At his _human self._

"No, don't be afraid," the doppelganger spoke softly in _his own _voice and tilted his head. "I'm about to show you the truth to which you have been so blind throughout all these years..."


	8. Second Redemption

**A/N: A friendly warning first. I'll still keep this a T for now, but there's some M-rated violence present here. Those who liked it, enjoy! **

* * *

_Right after you get rid of that annoying pest of a son of yours. And the wench, too. _

"How can I hear your voice if-"

"I'm not moving my lips? I have the Gift! I can also read minds."

Two distantly familiar voices snapped through his brain like a whip, causing Gabriel to shudder and crack open his eyes. The air glimmered with a soft blue light, grime and pebbles covered the ground and ceiling appeared to be walled off from the sky... what had happened to the chamber, to the demon? Was he in a cave? And what were those noises coursing through his mind?

A low hiss parted his lips as the vampire hauled his body up and glanced around, befuddled. Eve and Trevor were nowhere in his sight, but... A young blonde in tattered clothes, an imposing giant clad from head to toe in a black carapace and a... a human warrior, standing just beside them both, obscured everything else. Himself. Horror, accompanied by daze and surprise, hitched Dracul's breath deep inside his throat.

"Who are you?" the man beside the girl asked with a genuine curiosity in his voice.

The blonde offered him a smile. "My name is Claudia and he," she gestured at the armored knight, "is my protector. He looks after me. In return, I catch evil souls so he could absorb their energy. Without them, he would stop working. But," she pointed jocosely at the man, "there's something different about you, yes? You seem good somehow, so we won't kill you." Claudia rocked from her heels to toes, grinning merrily.

Claudia? This must be a trick, an illusion! She couldn't be real! She is _dead,_ her life cut short by a dagger plunged through her heart! And yet, there she stood, under the ever-wary eye of her guardian knight, conversing with _himself, _as if... nothing had transpired.

"I'm relieved to hear it." The sound of his own voice scraped against the elder's eardrums like sandpaper.

The corners of Claudia's lips stretched to the side as she opened her palm and reached out for the warrior's face. He recoiled and a frown momentarily crossed his brow.

"It's alright," the woman quickly reassured. "Let me read your thoughts." With this, she pressed her hand to the _other_ Gabriel's face and shut her eyes.

A glimmering in the torchlight dagger whistles through the air. The Black Knight crashes his serrated sword into the ground, but the warrior in red dodges his assault. A monstrous lycanthrope is wrestled down by the same man. A tower collapses, the crow witch falls. A young dark-haired girl invites to play. The Queen sends out her unholy legions. Headless corpses claw their way to freedom. Desecrated titans shudder for the last time. Arcs of lightning crack around the hooded figure's arms. A ghastly man shrouded in shadow dons a heavenly veneer. The same pale child urges to step forward, into the seamless light. A shell-clad demon spins lassos of solid darkness. A putrid weakling chokes up his own blood. And finally...

Himself as he cuts through the ranks of squires and soldiers alike, sowing panic and death alike with the precision of the reaper's sickle. And laughing. _Always_ laughing.

Dracul staggered back just as the blonde let out a startled _no!_ and buried her face in her hands. Her vision... what was what Claudia saw the moment she touched him? She had witnessed her death, his downfall and kept on going. She had doomed herself... yet her bravery and determination was something to be envious of.

The vampire took a deep breath, a grimace of distaste replacing his surprise. "Your petty trickery won't work on me, abyssal spawn! Show yourself, Azazel, and let us end this here!"

His human counterpart twitched and a mad grin curved his thin-lipped mouth. "But, we're just getting started, Chosen of God," the malformed demon whispered from beneath the crisped surface of the ghoulish mask. He had been wearing it all along.

Blink, and a roaring blue inferno engulfed every other sound around them. Its shine had filled his sight, forcing him to bat it away. Cursing under his breath, Dracul spun on his heels, searching for the image of the fallen angel. He was here! He could hear the goat's gargled cackle despite whirring of the fiery whirlpool behind him.

A foul sound of something disgorging attracted his attention and the vampire cast his eyes downward. He summoned all of his considerable willpower to suppress a flinch at what had met his gaze.

A dark-haired young lass from Claudia's vision – Laura – had her thin arms wrapped around a much bulkier form, nearly cradling it. The man leaned against her support, retched and spat a mouthful of crimson liquid onto the stone below. The girl squeaked, and held his face in her hands, red eyes wide with worry and fear.

"Gabriel." She lightly tapped her blooded fingers against the warrior's face. One of her wrists was torn open, a severed artery poking through her translucent skin. "You must keep drinking."

"No..." A single gagged word left the warrior's mouth along with some spittle and blood. "Laura, please...!"

"Do so now, or you _will_ die!" the vampire demanded, hopelessness creeping into her voice. "Free me of this miserable existence," she wailed, raising her hemorrhaging arm closer to his mouth. "I beg of you! Free me."

_Please,_ an otherworldly disembodied voice entered the scene, filling the air with its emptiness, _you must not know. _

Laura's voice...? But, she never uttered a word after her plea!

_The dimensional rift is the abyss, an image of Hell on this earth,_ the voice continued,_ but the Forgotten One's power was not enough to corrupt the sanctity of the Founders' spell. They had conjured this prison a lifetime before their ascension, before evil had ensnared their hearts. The plane can be breached by any creature, be it good or dark in nature. Even a mortal could challenge the one imprisoned there. _

A bitter wrinkle appeared near the edges of Dracul's mouth. "Laura..."

_You would not have dealt the final blow, if I had asked you directly, _the child raised her head, looking through the older vampire as if he were a ghost, _so I had to... I had to make you partake. Just like you, I had no choice. You've taken everything from me: my Mother, my life... I am alone in this world. You will be, too. _

Azazel's faint chortle echoed in his ears and the vampire bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Laura would never say this!" he roared at the giggling demon – wherever he might be. He ignored the harmful whiplash of the castle's influence. "She was weary! Weary of her cursed life and craved for an end. She was a lost soul and I set her free."

"Haven't you paid attention?" Azazel's voice rustled in response. "Did you, by any chance, forget that the Sovereign had told you? That everyone you killed, be that for a purpose, or by accident, are sentenced to exist the rest of their days within the castle's belly, slowly devoured away, piece by piece. The most cruel fate of all. Of course, any victim _would_ desire to inflict the same agonizing torture on you for this."

"The Forgotten One had stated that _he_ became the first," Dracul hissed.

"This does remind me. For how long, do you think, he will be able to keep up his facade? It's no secret that the prince of demons yearns to annihilate you, turn you inside out and leave your rotting carcass outside Sheol to further aggravate my master. Show the arrogant Lucifer that, when planning your revenge, patience_ is _rewarded."

"He knows better than to attack me, if he values his hide." The vampire hesitated before replying.

"Oh, does he?" The demon's gnarled face emerged from the darkness. "Look at yourself, _mighty_ Prince of Darkness. You, a vampire, willingly turn down the only source of nourishment, refuse to kill and saturate your being. Your body may support you for a bit longer feeding off the reservoirs stored inside, but it won't take long before it begins to fail you. Soon, you will revert to the same moldy cadaver, a husk you were reduced into after Crissaegrim pierced your heart. And then, even the lesser of demons would have no problem of mounting your head on a spike. _Again._"

A second, and the ruby-red foliage around them stirred from its slumber, taking over the ethereal glow of the open rift. Ill at ease, but doing his best to seize control over his emotions, Gabriel tread forward. A heap of golden leaves whirled around the vampire in their autumn dance, and the thick, moist leafage carpeting the ground, hushed out the former knight's uneasy steps.

Three human figures – two of them armed – came into his view and Dracul stopped in his tracks. There, under the shade of an ancient oak, his doppelganger stood together with a silver-haired man. Zobek. Their gazes were fixed on a large slab of stone in front of them and on that boulder a woman in white lay with her eyes closed and muscles stiff.

"Marie!" A stifled gasp left Gabriel's throat and he dashed towards the scene, unaware of his actions. He knew well enough what was about to happen.

The necromancer offered the vampire's double a massive poleaxe and Gabriel accepted it. His fingers curled around the shaft of the weapon, and raised it into the air.

"No!" the vampire nearly shouted, but none reacted and no matter how quickly his legs had carried him, an unknown force had pushed him away from the trio under the oak.

Zobek gave his companion an indulgent nod.

Dracul instinctively shielded his eyes.

A chomping sound of metal meeting flesh howled through the air with the anger of a thousand demons, upsetting a murder of crows nesting in the crown of the oak. The bloodstained blade soared into the air once more, and the fiendish sorcerer let out a satisfied chuckle. Zobek graciously patted the knight on the shoulder, still laughing. Soon, the soldiers departed, their figures disappearing under the golden canopy of trees.

A severed head, dribbling with ichor, lolled off the slab – the vampire could not tear his eyes from it. Marie remained resolute and serene, even in death. Butchered in cold blood by his own hands... a wife-killer. A murderer...

_Eve, behind you!_

But, no, wait. She was not dead, not lost even. She was waiting. Waiting for him to succeed, just like all those years ago! Marie's soul rested within the castle, he conversed with her, learned of her condition... She had given up her spot in Heaven just to be with him! He'd been given a chance to save her!

_Trevor, dammit! Do something, he's your father!_

_I can't yank the mask off! He's not letting me approach him!_

The... the mask? The _Devil_ Mask? Trevor, Eve... where were they?! Gabriel whirled around, trying to pinpoint the voices, but only the ripple of the leaves answered him.

"Having second thoughts?" Azazel's sharp features warped before him. "Does your deceased beloved no longer pique your interest?"

The vampire turned away from the demon's glimmering snarl, but Azazel reappeared before him.

"Butchered by her own loving husband," the goat intoned. "But I see you couldn't care less... You erased her name from your memory, didn't you? Did you find salvation in another's arms? So be it, insult the thought of your childhood sweetheart ever further, vampire."

"Azazel. God's Arrogance. You can pry into the life of the Champion, but a fallen one can't read the secrets of an angel," Dracul replied calmly. "And Marie is one. Her life was given back and yours... is about to be extinguished."

"I will crush your mind, mongrel!" the fiend screamed on the top of his lungs. "You _will_ serve me!"

"No, it will be you who is going to be crushed under Satan's boot for betraying him." Gabriel smiled and ripped at his own face.

The demonic mask plastered against his visage peeled off, flaying some of his skin in the process. It hurt, but that pain could be endured. Bereft of Azazel's magic, the forest crumbled into ash, melting away like snow on a hot day, and the familiar Mirror of Fate room blurred into view before him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Alucard, together with Eve, come alongside him.

"I hope I did not harm any of you," the elder vampire said. "Did I attack you?"

"You did." Eve nodded solemnly. "But we managed to evade most of the blows. Glad you regained your senses without us resorting to beat them back into you."

"Much appreciated." Dracul let out a chuckle and let his eyes linger on the hooded demon in front of them. "Azazel. Time to die, serpent."

The demon gnashed his teeth. "Perish, meat!" he roared, acidic spittle flying in every direction. "Perish and meet your maker!" With this, he lunged straight at Eve, all four hands with hideous claws open.

The elder fully expected for Azazel to tip the beam in his favor and go after the female of their group. So did Eve, apparently, and she was prepared for it.

"Wrong choice, asshole." An imbued with crimson flames chain thrashed into the demon's face, sending him squealing and reeling. Before anyone could react, the woman unleashed a series of shredding strokes against Azazel's back. The demon's carapace cracked soundly and he let out a pained yelp.

A slight smile touched the vampire's lips as his own infernal gauntlets wreathed around his wrists. From the corner of his eye he could Alucard grin as well and invoke his fiery Igneas blade. The three exchanged brief glances and circled around the fell demon, akin to a pack of wolves stalking its prey. For someone, this was more than just a simple comparison and Dracul heard his son let out a barking laugh. He had thought of the same.

Still, this had to be handled quickly and with care: the domain's lifespan was nearing its end, and, at any moment, they could be wrestled out this plane and thrown elsewhere. He couldn't allow it. Not with the second piece in his plain sight.

Realizing that he was surrounded, the goat-demon cried out and stomped his hoofed foot. A fissure cracked the ground beneath him, and familiar green flames rushed out, snapping at the party's legs. A blazing tendril coiled around the vampire's shin, but he was quick enough to swat it away. Alucard's longsword kept them at bay, while Eve spun her spiked chain around her, cutting the crawling flames down before they could ensnare her.

While they battled the sentient fire however, Azazel's figure winked out in a lime flash and appeared on the other end of the chamber. There, the demon began to bombard the group with globs of viscous matter, spewing them right out of his mouth. One of them hit Alucard right in his shoulder and the younger vampire hissed as the acid chewed on his armor like a ravenous animal.

Another brushed against Eve's thigh and she elicited a colorful curse. The matter eroded the cloth of her pants, revealing a sickly green burn underneath. Thankfully, she appeared to be alright.

The fallen angel breathed in and, this time, barfed out three fist-sized balls of acid directly at Gabriel. Without a second thought, the vampire dug his claws into the ground and released a wave of chaos in their direction. The hellish energy engulfed the blobs, consuming them, yet some of the acid ricocheted into Dracul's face. He winced with pain and pinned down a powerful desire to wipe the purulence off his skin.

Seeing his attack only delay his opponents, Azazel shifted his glare from a Belmont to a Belmont and, with a growl, launched himself at Alucard, acid dribbling out of the mouth and claws outstretched. A bad decision, indeed.

Crissaegrim's flaming blade carved a cut into the demon's torso and abdomen. There, with an ardent cry on her lips, Eve jumped forward and lashed at the fiend's exposed back. At the same time the elder rammed his claws into the demon's thigh, dissevering the muscle beneath the hide.

The fallen angel gargled and, coughing up blobs of putrid blood, mauled at the vampire. His brutish, yet precise – one hand scraped against the elder's cheek – attacks only encouraged Dracul to bury his hands deeper into the demon's hip joint and earn himself an asphyxiated shriek. The hellish flames around his gauntlets melted the flesh and bone alike and, with a sickening crunch, the vampire sundered the fiend's femur.

A deafening howl swallowed the air in the chamber as Azazel's left leg was torn out, leaving only a bloodied stump in its place. The goat-demon toppled down and sprawled onto his back, choked grunts escaping his throat. The Dragon tossed the disjointed limb away and approached the fallen angel, with his family behind his back.

"Now, the Trumpet," he whispered, eyes not leaving the demon's battered pathetic form.

Azazel rose his horned head and let out a hoarse giggle. "Ah-hah, I can already see your precious blood magic failing to conceal your wounds, Gabriel."

"I don't have time for this," the vampire muttered and stepped on the fiend's shattered bone, and the angel's chuckle molded into a yelp. "Give us. The. Trumpet."

"Here it is!" Alucard pulled out the tapered fragment out of Azazel's cloak. "Appears authentic enough."

"Better be safe than sorry," Dracul replied and offered his son the first scrap, the one procured from the Brotherhood's enclave. "See if it mends."

Trevor took the mouthpiece and carefully rested it against the narrow end of the pipe. The brass bits sizzled, sparkled as they melded into one – a slender horn with a broken off bell. The white-haired warrior inhaled sharply and grinned, while Eve cocked her to one side, a curious glint in her dark eyes.

At the very moment, Azazel sprung at them on his only leg, many hands grasping for the artifact. Loathsome creature.

The elder moved aside, letting the demon's vicious fingers fruitlessly claw past him, and brought forth his blade. Once Azazel fell forward, obeying inertia, Gabriel snarled and sunk the void sword through the fiend's occiput. Bones gnashed as the nether blade came out of the fiend's mouth, and then ruptured as the weapon ripped through the parietal bone, cleaving the skull in half between the horns. Tainted blood, bits of brain tissue, and mucus, all burst out of Azazel's toothy maw, freckling the floor in front of him.

Only when the demon's lifeless body collapsed to the ground with a wet thump did Dracul allow himself to relax his muscles. Behind him, he could hear Eve hiccup nervously.

"A part of me is going 'ew', but... I keep telling myself the demon deserved it," she said, pulling out a small box out of her pockets and placing a thin cylindrical object into her mouth. "Mind if I smoke? I need... need to calm my nerves."

"A thoughtful idea," the vampire replied. "I thought he'd killed some of your brethren. Why should you feel guilty?"

"I dunno." Eve shrugged and her brow furrowed. "This is a problem to me. I _can_ kill. Lash out, but it's almost always in self-defense. At any other time, it would just... paralyze me. Why do you think we call ourselves the _Innocent_ Devils? I guess, knowing the track record of our lineage, it's a plus. Sorta."

"It _is _a plus," Gabriel mimicked, smiling. "You fight well, and," he glanced at Alucard, "this time I say this without scorn."

"Yes, I noticed." Trevor let out a quiet chuckle.

"Aw, thanks." Eve watched as Azazel's body slowly withered away and tapped her cigarette against her arm. "I bet Lucifer will have a blast disciplining his rebellious hireling."

Dracul pondered over her words. "Hm, yes. And, before I forget..." He turned around and paced around the room, searching for the... there it was! The ghoulish mask stared back at him and the vampire could not hold back a grimace of disgust. A moment, and the vile artifact was incinerated in a burst of crimson flames, leaving only a pile of ash behind. "Now it will never ruin any more lives," he explained without glancing at his companions.

Just as his words escaped his mouth, the world around him blurred, waltzed, and crumbled, giving way to a familiar vortex. Their time was up. As the destructive wind surged around them, fragmenting the chamber they were in, stone by stone, Dracul heard Eve address him.

"Hey," she said and took a puff of her cigarette. "Take care, Gabriel, and know that, no matter the cost, we will trust your judgment."

"Trust my judgment?" the former knight repeated, perplexed. "Wait, could it be... Eve, do you have a son?"

The woman startled a little, obviously caught off guard, but in the end offered him a shy smile. "Yes. Victor. He's three years old." The corner of her mouth twitched. "How do you know?"

"Your son will be a hero, Eve," he said with a note of bitterness in his voice. "But even his prowess could not overshadow what you accomplished here today. Perhaps... perhaps, we will meet again. Goodbye and good luck."

"Thanks, but good luck has a habit of running out. A saying of mine." Eve's soft voice reached his ears for the final time as he stepped onto the shore of infinity and let the Maelstrom ferry his form elsewhere.

* * *

The violent transplant back into the original world made Dracul stagger for a moment or two, but, at least, this time no pain or lethargy assaulted his mind. He simply paused, gathering his bearings, before a whole orchestra of new sounds came down upon him.

A myriad of shrill cries thundered across the room, accompanied by a hellish clamor of thousands of fists, claws banging and scratching against a rocky surface. Wails, howls, and screams boomed about and the whole structure around him seemed to moan unintelligibly. Somewhere, he could hear a section of the wall cave in, a breathy curse stir the air and finally, a loud exasperated voice of his former foe, followed by a brusque prod into his side.

"Finally!" The Forgotten One's beady eyes burrowed into his. "Did you acquire it?"

"Yes." The vampire held the semi-completed Trumpet out, before tucking it behind his coat. "What is going on here?"

"Complete pandemonium, that's what is going on," the archfiend answered, looking about frantically. "Hundreds of blood creatures are gathered just outside the barrier, but," he gestured at the semisolid green wall near their location, "it will not hold on for much longer against such a bestial force. We're surrounded."

"What to do you propose?" Dracul asked. A sickening squelch soon shadowed his words as the cursed blood seeped through the cracks in the floor, filling the chamber with its keening cries. Pleas, threats, and laments, all echoed in his ears, making him wince.

_Insolent cur!_ One stood out of all others. _We gave you everything and this is how your repay our kindness?!_

"Not so neighborly now, is it," Alucard murmured, drawing his sword.

A deafening crash drew the vampires' attention away from the influence: they saw Ikay pound the wall near the aperture, broadening the breach into the outdoors. A flurry raged outside, a rain so thick, it enshrouded the rest of the castle in its veil.

"We're in no condition to fight it here and now." The Forgotten One flung a slab of cobblestone at the pooling blood and a pained yowl reached out for their ears. "We have no choice. We must flee in order to preserve your individuality. I already recovered the Maelstrom, but we _must_ hurry."

Gabriel shot a quick glance at the swarm of blood fiends outside the barrier. Even now he could spy several of the monstrosities emerge from the puddles of boiling gore, claws and eyeless muzzles becoming more apparent with each passing second. Plus, they had to last long enough to recover the last fragment of the relic, before heading back into the modern world. Yes, even the Prince of Darkness knew when it was wise to step back.

"Yes, you're right," he mouthed, hand traveling to his chest. "We still have unfinished business with the Maelstrom."

The metal of his draconic talisman gave off a pleasant chill as his fingers curled around it. Navigating through such weather would be tough, but a dragon's eyes-

A malignant outcry thundered across the room, sending shivers down everyone's spines. It was unlike any other howl enounced by the castle's demon. No, this one rang of such unbridled furor... of such unconstrained ferocity even Dracul did not expect the structure to possess. Multiple cracks ran down the walls, the ceiling, covering the whole wing in a webbing through which blood began to rush through like streams. In just mere moments the entire floor was flooded in the oily substance, steadily inching towards the vampire's feet.

A pile of marble rubble – the remains of the Forgotten One's shell – provided the much-needed elevation, a succor, and Dracul felt his son tug him towards it. Without a second thought, the vampires bolted towards it, blood dogging their footfalls with sheer viciousness of a predator.

Whilst scaling the rubble, the elder put his relic away: invoking the power of the talisman at this very moment would end in a disaster. The memory of fleshy tendrils sprouting from the ichor still stood fresh in his mind and, no doubt, a few hundred of them could chain even a dragon's limbs.

But their respite was short-lived: they could already see dozens of skinless humanoid figures rise from the blood and begin to crawl towards them. The void sword's energy engulfed the first row of monsters and turned them into harmless ice statues. Nonetheless, more and more of these creatures advanced, simply climbing over their frozen brethren. Holding his blade aloft, Dracul glanced at the armored giant in the distance.

Fortunately, the Forgotten One appeared to be in one piece, despite the taint pooling around him. Using his gargantuan size to his advantage, the demon trampled some of the blood spawn down – Gabriel's outstretched hand jerked spasmodically – before calling forth a glimmering morning star and launching it at the wall, pulverizing the stone and widening the aperture ever further. Large enough for a dragon to fit through.

Getting to it however...

Ikay swung his chain around him, building momentum, and propelled it at the vampires. The flail's massive head smashed into the wall behind them, and the archfiend pulled, forming a makeshift bridge over the lake of boiling blood.

The impact sent some of the blood fiends surrounding them reeling, buying Dracul and Alucard valuable time to haul themselves onto the thick links of the Forgotten One's flail. They dashed across its surface, sometimes pausing to stall their monstrous pursuers, be that by void magic, or Alucard's blade.

Midway to the archfiend, Dracul felt the chain suddenly shudder and drop a few feet. He looked back – the morning star's head was slowly coming loose under the joined weight of both the vampires and the crimson tide behind them. Drawing a raspy breath, the elder silently willed Alucard to _move_.

The Forgotten One noticed it, too. Clawed fingers coiling around the weapon's hilt, the demon let out a brief huff and pulled. With a low rattle, the flail head broke away and soared through the air back at the wielder. Gabriel clung to the links with a death's grip as the entire weapon rose and fell like a crest of a wave. Right by his side, he could hear Alucard let out a hoarse bark. Only when the rising chain started to bend, did Dracul grab onto his son's shoulder.

"Now!" he shouted over the howl of the wind and sprung away from the chain's surface, dragging Alucard with him.

Barreling through the air, the elder vampire let the claws of his free hand dig into his palm and draw blood. A hot itch of blood magic crawled up his arm, bringing some life to his paralyzed muscles. Two crimson wing-shaped appendages sprouted from his back and propelled him forward, over the bloody tides beneath.

Next moment, the vampire felt himself being gathered into the archfiend's grasp – good, he was beginning to doubt the demon's intentions.

"Again, I'm in your grip," Dracul idly commented, watching as the masked giant allowed Alucard atop his shoulder.

"I didn't try to grind your bones this time." The Forgotten One chuckled, depositing the elder onto his unoccupied shoulder.

The vampire grabbed onto one of the archfiend's curved horns and smiled. "That's true; you did reward me with two broken ribs after that." His dragon talisman made a reappearance, basking in all shades of red in his hand.

"You got better," the demon replied indulgently, striding through the knee-deep marsh towards the aperture.

_No!_ the castle bellowed after them. _You will stay here! _

Ikay took a running start and sprinted towards the breach. Behind him, the blood gushed as legions of deformed humanoids tried to latch onto the demon's legs and hinder his progress.

_Our Prince belongs only to us! _An enraged howl came. _He is required to be here!_ _He is nothing without us!_

Paying little attention to the castle's screams, Dracul crushed the scales stored inside his relic. A glorious sensation poured through his veins and he let billowing shadows around him swell and grow, gradually forming his true form's feathery hide, harboring an undying fire inside.

_NO! _The castle and its wicked children wailed in unison. _WE WILL NEVER STOP HUNTING YOU!_

The Forgotten One dived out of the aperture just as the transformation was finished. The Dragon's claws dug deep into the archfiend's armor, rocked him from side to side to gain momentum and tossed his lumbering form onto his back. The demon clutched the wet feathers and tugged them, pulling the beast away from the hellish walls. Soon, the trio was heading towards the vast expanses of forest in the distance as the anguished howls and cries of the castle behind them faded away into rainy obscurity.


End file.
